


the trouble with you.

by volacious



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha!Otabek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Ballerina!Yuri, Blow Jobs, Coffee Shops, DJ AU, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Frottage, Grinding, M/M, Omega Verse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Public Blow Jobs, Smut, Social Anxiety, dj!otabek, omega!yuri, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2018-09-26 04:04:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9861692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volacious/pseuds/volacious
Summary: Yuri hadn't wanted to go to the club. He wanted to curl up at home and relax for once, but of course Victor fucking Nikiforov had other plans. By the end of the night, he's willing to thank the man for dragging him out.





	1. I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: i really need to update my other fics !!!! no more new ones !!!!  
> kubo: *says otabek dj's*  
> also me: lol wtf are my other fics get ready for dJ OTABEKKKK
> 
> i am such a trash can and i swear that i'm working on my other fics. i just have so much motivation for this fucking fic now and i had to write it as soon as i heard. i have put so much effort into this already and honestly ???? am i sorry ???? absolutely fucking not. 
> 
> there's a lot of changes in this au which is why i made [character outlines](https://docs.google.com/document/d/11kXlQpRv1fUudGGw7ooIDHuPdMRms0iaKR88vF06Vuw/edit?usp=sharing) in case anybody gets confused !!!! it's really just a general lay-out so i can play the characters consistently and whatnot. you don't have to read if you don't want, but it might clear a few things up !!!
> 
> also i don't speak russian/japanese/kazakh so if i make mistakes you know why. feel free to yell at me about them. i also am not a club owner/have never been to one so if im sorely lacking/incorrect in my description, pls just have mercy on my soul. i'm trying my best.
> 
> oh and i got the title from the song (and for this chapter) _TROUBLE (feat. Absofacto) [Extended Mix]_ by The Knocks, Absofacto

Yuri didn’t want to be there. He wanted to be home, in his bed, curled up with his cat with some shitty show playing on his shitty TV. Unfortunately for him, his friends (who were really more like family at this point) were insufferable and hadn’t left him alone until he’d agreed into going out. Again, begrudgingly so and only because he was forced. He didn’t want to spend anymore time with those losers than was absolutely necessary.

He wasn’t dressed for the club, which he regretted almost immediately after he’d gotten done fighting with the bouncer (for fuck’s sake he was twenty-one, whether he looked it or not). The atmosphere was sticky and muggy, all thanks to the swaying mass of people crowded together in the neon colored room. The smell of the pheromones in the room caused his nose to wrinkle up, his sense displeased by the thickness of it. When he descended down to the lower level, where most of the actual clubbing activities took place, he scowled heavily. These lights were seriously going to end him.

It certainly wasn’t a surprise that the room was currently colored a bright red, but that didn’t mean he had to _like_ it. Chris had once argued that it appealed to people more than just a dark room with flashing lights, but he didn’t quite understand that. He was in the midst of thinking when a familiar voice broke him out of his reverie.

“Yurio! _Idi syuda_ ,” Victor shouted from the bar, where he was happily propped on a stool, drink in his right hand. Yuri scoffed at the sight of the ring there, before he ducked his head and made his way over to the steel-haired man.

It wasn’t long before he spotted Yuuri Katsuki beside the other, frantically chatting with a familiar grey-eyed, dark-haired Thai photographer. He’d been told that quite a few of their friends would be there, but he hadn’t expected for Phichit to have arrived so soon. He was, more often than not, late to their friendly outings. Yuri couldn’t say much, though. He was late to them all out of sheer spite.

“Why am I here again, geezer?” He barked once he was finally in front of Victor. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, already itching to leave and find someplace with less people. It’s not like he had an aversion to crowds or he got anxious in them like Guang-Hong, he just didn’t want to be there.

“You were in America on your birthday and you haven’t gone anywhere since you got back! Well, besides the studio, but I don’t think that counts,” Victor replied, his enthusiasm not faltering in the slightest despite Yuri’s harsh tone. He seemed to be thinking, regarding Yuri, and the younger Russian shifted under the other’s gaze. “You should get something to drink. Might help you relax.”

“I didn’t come here to _drink_ ,” Yuri retorted. Though, he supposed that he might go back on that the longer he was in the suffocating environment. He could only be there so long without drowning himself in alcohol and it seemed that Victor knew that, an amused smile now gracing his features. “Shut up,” The blonde grumbled, burrowing further into his hoodie.

“Well, Chris got a new bartender while you were gone - as much as he _loved_ Javier, the man couldn’t even mix a Lemondrop properly, so he had to go. Anyway, the new bartender is kind of a touchy fellow, though I think you might get along. You both have pessimistic personalities,” Victor stated thoughtfully, tapping his chin. “You can put any of your orders on my tab, if you’d like!”

Yuri was about to argue that he  _wasn’t_ pessimistic, but the silver-haired man was soon dragging his fiancé away, leaving Yuri behind. Victor’s scent was plagued with a fondness for his ‘mate’ and it was flat out disgusting to the blonde. The Russian grumbled under his breath and slid into the seat that the other had been occupying. He eyeballed the drink Victor had left behind in his haste, squinting harshly at it as if it’d done something to offend him. It was a rich blue color (or at least that’s what he thought it was - damn the fucking lighting) with a pineapple wedge attached to the brim of the curvy glass.

He pulled the pineapple wedge off of it and bit the majority of the fruit off, leaving the spiky rind behind. He was tempted to sip at the liquid, but ultimately decided against it. Victor would probably get all dramatic about it in that way that just made his blood boil, while everyone else laughed.

Yuri was about to turn and stalk off onto the dance floor to find the infuriating man and his significant other, but arms seized him around the middle and held him in place. He shouted, drawing attention to himself, and thrashed a bit, trying to escape the impossibly tight hold.

“Oh, _snezhinka,_  I’m so glad you came out,” A loud, heavily accented, feminine voice nearly screeched in his ear. The bitter, repugnant smell of alcohol hit his nose, only proving to make him struggle a bit more in the hold, but it didn’t let up in the slightest. “It’s so quiet and lacking of rage when you’re _not_ here and - and-”

“Mila let _go_ of me,” Yuri shouted, giving one less push at the redhead's arms, before he gave up and let the drunk woman hug him to her heart’s content.

She pulled away eventually and beamed at the other, patting his head lovingly, much to the blonde’s dismay. “Did Victor not tell you about our table? What a dick,” Mila scoffed, words so slurred he almost couldn’t understand them. He was soon being tugged away from the blue drink and the bar, around the dance floor and towards the darker section of the area, where there were various sofas and tables. Most were taken (it was a saturday night, after all) but he was able to spot several familiar heads rather quickly.

“Look who I found!” Mila announced once they were closer and everyone turned, letting out obnoxious cheers as if they _never_ saw him. It wasn’t a stretch, though, he hadn’t seen some of them in the four years it had taken him to get his degree.

It was easy integrating himself back into the group though; he was soon making snide comments like he’d never left, making Leo and Guang-Hong sputter, Georgi cry out dramatically. It brought him some sort of comfort, being surrounded by these _stupid_ people, even if he’d never admit it. He was soon coerced into taking a shot and the warmth stirring in his gut afterwards was pleasant. He had practice the next day, however, and didn’t want to overdo it.

Chris was soon approaching their table, a male with shoulder-length hair on his arm, both dressed far nicer than anyone else in that club. Yuri bit his tongue. There were _so_ many things he could say to them both, but he settled for picking at the peeling edge of the table.

“You ready to perform tonight, Leo?” The Swiss alpha questioned, now leaning against the table, a mischievous smile on his face. “You’ll be going on after Mr. Altin,” He stated and then frowned heavily, turning around a bit to look at the booth in front of the dance floor. “Who should be playing music by n-”

Before he was able to finish his statement, the lights cut off and a collective gasp roared in Yuri’s ears. It was like the people in the club had never been in a dark room before. He snorted at the thought. It wasn’t long before soft, lilting notes could be heard. They were going off at a fast pace, though the soft nature of them _certainly_ wasn’t dance worthy. There was soon some powerful bass that seemed to shake the room, though Yuri assumed that was just because of the now light blue lights, that vibrated violently when the noise went off.

It happened a few more times and it seemed that nobody was moving, just enjoying the new music. It was different from the sultry tones that the previous DJ had set up, but no less appealing. Chris seemed to look pleased, from what he could see in the dimly lit room. When the words began, however, the room seemed to explode in movement and the room was once again brightly lit, though no longer that awful neon red.

He caught his first glimpse of the actual person creating this sort of atmosphere and he almost felt like he was punched in the gut. The guy was hot as fuck, to put it in layman’s terms. His black hair was styled in a neat undercut (it was even more well kept than Chris’, which was saying something), though the tuft of hair on the top didn’t seem to have any sort of gel in it, making it flop around without restriction. His skin was perfectly tanned, spread out over what _had_ to be large muscles, what with the way his leather jacket was straining against his arms and shoulders.

He was wearing some sort of mesh shirt beneath the leather, though Yuri couldn’t get a proper look at _that_ , with the distance between the two of them. He could see the light sheen of sweat, however, that covered DJ Altin’s skin.

The blonde was struck with a thought and he reached across the table, thumping Chris in the arm. The man turned a bit and quirked an expectant eyebrow, bringing a scoff from the young Russian. He could feel his face heating up and it wasn’t because of the humid room. “Is he new?” Yuri shouted over the music, gesturing towards the booth as he spoke. Chris merely nodded, before turning his attention back to his boyfriend.

There was a tap on his shoulder and Yuri turned to peer at Mila, who had a shit-eating grin on her face. “Are you interested in Mr. _Otabekkkk_ ~” She drawled in question, pressing close to Yuri a second later.

“None of your business, _hag_ ,” Yuri roared, pushing at the redhead beta’s face, effectively putting some distance between the two of them. He was sure that his face was flushed now, despite the fact that he hadn’t yet danced and had only had a single shot. The only plus sides to the situation were that the room was dark and Mila was trashed; there was no way that she’d see it.

The woman seemed distrusting of him and squinted her blue eyes at him for a few moments, before she shrugged and pranced over to Georgi, who was solemnly stirring his drink. She managed to pull him away and out onto the dance floor and Yuri almost swore he saw a smile on the older man’s face. It was nice, to see him smile, not that Yuri would _ever_ admit that.

When another round of shots arrived after the first song had ended and the second had started, Yuri didn’t hesitate to down one.

♛♛♛

He’d somehow found his way onto the dance floor (it was probably Mila or Victor’s fault) and he wasn’t really dancing; it was more of a never ending swaying. He was feeling a bit buzzed, though his rational thinking was still intact and he wasn’t even close to _Mila_ level of intoxication. With how close he was to the booth, he can actually look at this Otabek Altin unashamedly, since the man seemed to be heavily focused on the music he was spinning out.

Yuri knows that if he’s caught staring by any of his friends, he’d never live it down and would be teased relentlessly, but he can’t look away. Not that he’s actually trying to.

The man’s got a square jaw and, as far as Yuri’s concerned, it’s the nicest he’s ever seen. He’s got thick eyebrows that are the same color as his hair and lips that seem to be stuck in a perpetual pout. His earlier guess about muscles was right and he was yearning to just climb the booth and touch them, make sure they were real and he wasn’t just imagining this man up.

Yuri’s trying to figure out what color his eyes are, paying a little more attention to the man than is necessary, anticipating each shift of his body, when he actually _turns_ and looks dead-on at the blonde. Dark eyes. Impossibly dark. Yuri makes a mental note of that and it takes him a moment to realize that he’s _still_ being looked at, but once he does he practically shrinks away and melts into the crowd as well as he can.

His stupid face is on fire again and thinking of it only makes it worse. He unzips and sheds his hoodie as he goes, draping the offensive material across the table where just Guang-Hong and Leo are sitting now, staring at each other dreamily. He’s in just a grey tank-top now (the same one he’d worn at practice, he realizes) and he feels less sweaty and suffocated. Not that the atmosphere of the room has changed, because it hasn’t.

Yuri’s back on the dance floor before he even realizes it and he’s swaying again, a bit more purposefully this time. He can see Victor and Katsudon sucking face a few feet away and it seems that Mila has found her nightly conquest and they’re dancing, while Georgi stands to the side, looking absolutely betrayed. It makes laughter bubble up in his throat. He _almost_ joins the crowd in complaining when the song that was on ends and another doesn’t immediately follow, but he’s too busy watching _Otabek_ slip from the booth, bulky headphones no longer around his neck.

(And Yuri wants to pursue him.)

(But he doesn’t.)

Leo is soon on the booth and seems to be nervously fiddling around, before there’s music blaring from the speakers again and people are cheering and dancing again, pressing together. He joins them, though not with as much enthusiasm and he _certainly_ doesn’t press himself against anyone. He’s soon hyper aware of the fact that his fucking _hair_ is sticking to his neck in the most uncomfortable way and it’s driving him nuts, so he gathers it up as best as he can and ties it up with the black hair tie that’s always on his wrist. He’s just let his hands fall to his sides when something - a _hand_ drifts across his stomach and then he’s turning to look into those _dark_ eyes.

He’s even more attractive up close, Yuri thinks and he feels like his knees are going to give out if he stares into those eyes any longer, but then Otabek _says_ something and - oh fuck, his voice is just as hot as the rest of him. It’s deep and accented, but has a soft sort of lilt that he knows well enough thanks to Katsudon to guess that Otabek is _shy_ and he feels himself unravel further. He’s so lost in his own inner monologue that he doesn’t catch what the other says and blinks at him dumbly, fire licking at his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, what?”

And he smiles, like Yuri isn’t being a total _idiot_ right now. “Can we dance?” He asks over the music and Yuri is nodding frantically before the other has even finished the statement. It warms the blonde Russian thoroughly that he’d asked and hadn’t assumed, hadn’t turned out to be one of those creeps who take and take and take without looking for permission.

He’s turned back around before he knows it, his back pressed to Otabek’s front, that one hand still there, grounding him and making him realize that this is all _actually_ happening. They sway for a few minutes, barely pressed together, but Yuri is desperate to be pressed closer. He’s trying to figure out how to make a move that makes that clear, but then that hand on his stomach is grasping at his hip and pulling him back firmly, guiding his movements.

Yuri briefly thinks that the guy is a mind reader.

All of his thoughts are interrupted when he feels the casual dusting of hot breath across the back of his exposed neck. He’s extremely grateful that he’d tied his hair up now, because the feeling is intoxicating and it’s far stronger than any alcohol he’s ever consumed. With Otabek pressed so close to him, breathing down his neck in hot, short spurts, it was impossible to not tell what the man’s presentation was. Alpha. It warmd some previously shut down of Yuri’s psyche to know that.

The song ends, but then the next begins and it’s far more upbeat. The lights dim just a little more and Yuri reaches a hand back, soon cupping the back of the other man’s neck. There are short hairs poking at the palm of his hand, but he just holds on a bit tighter and presses himself back further. The gasp that comes from behind him is enough to make him smirk, filling him with a confidence he didn’t even know he possessed.

He rocks his hips with the other and he knows this isn’t actually dancing (he’s the expert on that), but it’s the most exhilarating form of movement he’s ever done and he’s willing to classify it as just that for the night. There’s soon another hand on his other hip and he’s willing to let himself be completely guided and moved by this man, this _stranger_. When Otabek urges him into turning around, he does without question and soon his chest is pressed to the other’s.

The dark-haired man tips his head down and soon their foreheads are mimicking their chests. One hand has remained firmly cupping his hip, while the other has drifted to hold to his lower back, dangerously close to his ass. And he finds that he _wants_ that hand on his ass. The thought makes him flush further and he hopes that the other doesn’t notice; if he does, he doesn’t comment.

Their noses brush against each other and Yuri lets out a shaky exhale, his hips now moving with more purpose, more force. The result of his movements is almost instant and he resists the urge to let out a triumphant shout when he feels an unmistakable hardness against the front of his jeans. He bites at the inside of his lower lip, his own desire bubbling up in the pit of his stomach, sending a warmth straight to his crotch.

Otabek opens his mouth and Yuri watches, enraptured by everything this man does. “Can I kiss you?” He asks and it’s not a moment later before the blonde is pressing forward, trying to swallow those words whole. He pulls on the other’s neck, desperate to be closer, and can’t help but be disappointed when he finds that it’s not possible for them to be. His disappointment is quickly washed away when the other licks into his mouth and he swears he could collapse on the spot from how _aroused_ he is.

The kisses are hot and frenzied, like the rest of their movements, and there’s a sort of promise hidden behind them that excites him. He reaches his free hand back and pushes the other’s hand down so it’s effectively groping his ass and he relishes in the faltering of the other’s smooth movements, the brief stutter. It’s nice to know that he has a similar effect on the taller male.

Yuri pulls away with a slight nip to the other’s lower lip. He nearly crumbles at the sight of Otabek, with his kiss-bruised lips and his flushed face and heavy panting, but he steels himself and offers the other a sneaky sort of smile. He stops their movements and finds one of the dark-haired man’s hands, pulling him out of the crowd and in the direction of the bathrooms, careful to avoid any of his friend’s. He doesn’t need them to ruin a moment like this.

When they’re in the dark space of the bathroom (which is only lit by a large neon sign above the mirror), he presses himself back into Otabek, catching his mouth in an eager kiss. Rough, large hands push up beneath his top and follow the curve of his spine with an ease that’s just not _natural_. Soon, there’s a tongue brushing up against his and he arches into the other, the wet slide paired with the magic hands doing things to him that he didn’t care to talk about, didn’t want to _admit_.

Otabek pulls away and Yuri whines, desperately trying to bring the other back down to his mouth, but the dude fucking smiles and shakes his head, pushing him back into one of the stalls. The door is locked and then lips are back on his and he keens, finally getting what he wants. Those sinful lips are soon drifting away from his mouth, however, and he’s about to complain when he feels teeth on his jaw and then the wetness of the other’s tongue. He tilts his head subconsciously, eyes drifting shut as he allows himself the pleasure of just existing without worry.

He’s sure that his neck and jaw are going to be artfully colored deep blues and harsh purples by the time Otabek is done, but he just doesn’t care and would prefer to have twice the amount he’s left by the time he pulls away. Lips drift across the slight bump behind his left ear and Yuri shudders, mouth parting slightly as pressure is applied to the sensitive glands. He whines again when the other’s heat has left him, biting at his lip in an attempt to stop himself, because Yuri Plisetsky does _not_ whine.

“What’s your name?” Otabek pants, tongue running over his already spit-slick lips. It takes Yuri a moment to register the question and he stares blankly at the completely obscene sight, before his attention snaps up to those dark eyes and _fuck_ , he’s blushing again.

“Yuri,” He states firmly, blinking several times as he watches Otabek smile. He’s trying to figure out the reason when the other speaks again.

“I’m Otabek,” He says and Yuri thinks _I know_ , but he doesn’t say it.

“Nice to meet you,” The blonde offers and cringes inwardly a moment later.

The smile doesn’t leave the other’s face and he returns the words, but then he’s leaning in and his lips are brushing over Yuri’s ear and if he wasn’t already hard, that would’ve done it. He shivers when Otabek’s breath tickles his ear, but he doesn’t protest in the slightest and instead leans closer.

“Yuri,” He murmurs and Yuri decides he likes the way his name sounds when that voice is saying it. “Can I suck you off?”

Yuri’s breath leaves him in that moment and he’s faltering, hesitating, floundering on the inside, but then he’s nodding his head and muttering a distraught ‘oh god, _yes_.’ Otabek sinks to his knees not a second later and the blonde has got a hand braced against the stall wall, watching this absolutely _lewd_ act unfold. He reaches his free hand up and bites at the side of his index finger when the other unzips his pants, brushing against his completely erect cock.

When his pants and briefs are gathered at his knees, his dick standing proudly out, precum glistening on the tip, he thinks he might liquidate then and there with how Otabek is just _staring_ at him. He shifts a bit due to the uncomfortable stickiness that has dripped down to his thighs and the other must have mistaken it for discomfort due to the act, looking up from where he’s on his knees.

“You okay?” He asks and there’s now a pucker in his eyebrows, concern etched into every feature.

Yuri nods his head frantically in answer, pulling his finger from his mouth. “Get on with it,” He urges, but his tone holds none of his usual force or malice. Just simple, unadulterated want. It must be amusing, because Otabek has got a small smile on his face. He averts his eyes from the scene below, instead deciding to stare at the dark blue stall door in front of him.

He’s about to say something to encourage the other further, but then Otabek has him in his hand and the flat of his tongue is licking Yuri from base to tip and all words leave Yuri’s brain. A broken sort of groan leaves his lips and he clasps a hand over his mouth. He doesn’t want someone to walk in and find them like this, though he knows that Chris won’t have him kicked out. The club owner will just torture him about it later, which Yuri’s certain is worse.

Otabek’s tongue is now grazing over the slit, lapping at the few drops of precum gathered at the head; then he’s got Yuri in his mouth _just_ past the ridge and the way he’s suckling at the reddened flesh should be illegal, but the blonde is glad it’s not. He removes his hand from the wall and dives it down into the other’s hair, tugging lightly, which he assumes Otabek enjoys if the groan that vibrates against his dick is any indication. He gasps lightly and only tightens his hand, resisting the urge to cant his hips forward.

When the other takes him down almost completely, he does just that and Otabek gags briefly, pulling back a bit. Yuri mumbles an apology, though it’s a bit unintelligible due to the fact that the man on his knees is back to sucking him before he’s got it all out. Otabek’s tongue is a constant pressure on his cock, whether he’s completely sunken down, or mouthing at the head curiously. He continues staring straight ahead at the stall door, face contorted with pleasure, hand tightening when something feels extremely nice. Otabek seems to take note whenever he does that and repeats the action that caused it, creating a never ending cycle.

He can feel himself nearing the edge and he’s desperate to ride it out, to fuck into Otabek’s mouth, but he doesn’t and just settles for tugging on the other’s hair. He’s about to come and he makes that known, but Otabek doesn’t pull off and if anything sucks harder, sinking down as far as he’s able. Yuri’s final mistake is looking down at Otabek, who’s looking up at him as he sucks particularly hard and then Yuri is coming and spilling into the other’s mouth, eyes screwed shut and lips parted in a small ‘o.’

It’s not until he’s completely down from his high that he realizes the other is shuddering in intervals, his breathing far heavier than it had been. Yuri gapes at him. “Did you just - ?” He asks, but isn’t able to finish the question. Otabek looks up sheepishly, however, and nods, understanding what he’d been trying to ask. It’s safe to say that if it was physically possible, the Russian would be hard as a fucking rock again from that alone.

A few moments pass and then Otabek is pulling up his underwear and pants, tucking his now flaccid dick into them in a way that  _shouldn’t_ be caring, but is. He stands a second later and tugs at his own jeans. Yuri figures that it has to be uncomfortable, but doesn’t comment on it, instead choosing to look up at the other. He bites as his lower lip and tosses an idea around, because he doesn’t want to never see this man again. He knows it’s likely they will be around each other frequently, but only at the club and he doesn’t want that.

His chest swells with anxiety, because he’d just allowed himself to go farther with this man than anyone else. Alphas had always been a strict ‘no’ zone when it came to Yuri, for he wasn’t one to be used and then thrown away as if he was nothing more than something to fuck. At least, not quietly. He’s not sure what he’ll do now if Otabek shoots him a fiendish grin and then stalks off, leaving Yuri to his own devices.

He’s about to open his mouth when Otabek stops his very likely awkward babbling, saving him for the second time that night. “Can I see you again?”

Yuri can’t help the smile that takes over his face. “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're curious as to what song i (horribly) described it's _like a bitch - extended mix_ by zomboy. i can't describe songs with words. it's too hard. 
> 
> something else i did for this was i made [pinterest boards](https://www.pinterest.com/makellrose/) for all the characters and created a fancast. their faces can be found within the pinterest boards, if you're at all interested. if not, that's cool too! 
> 
> anyway here are the translations for this chapter:  
>  _idi syuda_ \- come here  
>  _snezhinka_ \- snowflake
> 
> i think that's it bc this wasn't an incredibly dialogue heavy chapter so ??? mostly just yuri rambling about how fucking h o t otabek is which, lol, can you blame him?
> 
> if you'd like to scream at me, say hello on my [tumblr](http://mxkell.tumblr.com/) where i mostly self-advertise and post yoi fanart and shitty memes.
> 
> comments, bookmarks, and kudos fuel me !!!!


	2. II.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _who said coffee was just for the morning?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i tried to post this earlier but ,,, ao3 was freaking tf out and deleted half the chapter? i swear i tried, but it's just meh.
> 
> anyway, from now on i'm going to try to post more regularly. this fic should be updated every tuesday/wednesday (depending on the business of the week) and im committed to sticking to the schedule.
> 
> anyway, i hope you all enjoy!

Yuri learns a lot about Otabek in a short time. He supposes that’s the wonder of texting.

He’s 24 and from Kazakhstan, meaning he not only speaks their national language, but also Russian and that warms Yuri through and through. He’s got an unhealthy obsession with plants, black clothes, and music. The last was expected; he is a DJ afterall. In the first few days of them talking, the blonde could’ve swore he’d gotten fifty links to various songs, some Otabek’s, other’s not.

(He definitely didn’t listen to them all _at least_ twice.)

(What kind of fool do you take him for?)

He has a motorcycle that he’s been working on diligently, since it seemingly crapped out a month or so back. The man’s entire aesthetic screams ‘bad boy,’ but Yuri doesn’t think someone who can obsess over cacti for more than thirty seconds could be considered that. Victor, on the other hand, wasn’t exactly subtle about his newfound dislike of Otabek and protectiveness over Yuri.

“I’m just saying be careful!” Victor shouts from the kitchen, where he’s preparing the coffee that Yuri had demanded upon entering their apartment. He was out of it at home and knew that the soon-to-be Katsuki-Nikiforov was no doubt fully stocked on the brew. “A lot of alphas are only after one thing and we don’t need another Georgi in this group.”

“I don’t need your advice, old man!” Yuri shot back with ease, lounging on one of their sofas, feet propped up comfortably on one of the several throw pillows they kept around. “Besides, you’re the one _engaged_ to an alpha.”

Katsuki was slumped on the small living chair, glasses crooked on his face, eyes drooping closed. Unlike his fiance and the blonde Russian, he wasn’t a morning person and Yuri smirked at him, before turning his attention back to his phone. A moment later, Victor was coming into the space with two cups, dropping a kiss on the crown of Yuuri’s head, before he offered him one of the cups. Yuri received the other and he sat up, taking a sip of it. He nearly groaned from how _good_ it was.

“We’re different. We’re _soulmates_ ,” The Russian hummed fondly, leaning down to kiss his sleepy alpha’s temple. “Yuuri, tell him he needs to be careful,” Victor pleaded, propped on the arm of the chair, brushing his fingers through the Japanese man’s hair. Yuri wrinkled his nose up at the two of them, muttering some expletives under his breath, before he was back to drinking the perfect, black beverage.

“You need to be careful,” Katsudon murmurs, though it’s clear that he’s not paying attention. He’s nursing at his cup of coffee, now leaning heavily into the steel-haired Russian, who’s got a stupid smile on his face as he stares down at the other.

“You guys are disgusting,” Yuri grouses from around the brim of his coffee cup, his face screwed up in a look of distaste. That only seems to spur Victor on more and soon he’s giving the extremely disgruntled ravenette a full on the mouth kiss. If Yuuri hadn’t spilled coffee on the two of them in his surprise, Yuri likely would have gagged and shouted about it for minutes. Instead, he settles back into the couch with a smug look, while Yuuri complains to Victor who looks completely unapologetic. Asshole.

He’s about to go scrolling through instagram when his phone dings and he visibly perks up, switching to his messaging app. Normally, it takes him several minutes (if not hours/days) to respond to text messages from anyone, but not Otabek.

 **otabek** : gmorning  
**otabek** : did u have ur coffee ?

Yuri nibbles at his lower lip and sets his cup down, so it’s easier for him to type back in response. One of the first things he’d told the other was that he _refused_ to function without at least two cups of pure caffeine running through him and since then, Otabek had made it his mission to ask every morning. It was incredibly endearing, Yuri had thought.

 **yuri** : yeah. had to go to the lovebirds’ place to get it though.  
**yuri** : you’re awake early.  
**yuri** : did you not work last night?

Another thing that Yuri had learned is that Otabek’s schedule is horribly _fucked_. He spends most of the day sleeping, if not all of it, since he generally works the entire time the club is open. It’s made it a bit difficult for them to actually meet up and not just talk through text, but Yuri doesn’t really mind. His practices are impossible too and by the time he gets home, he doesn’t want to do shit and Otabek seems to understand that. His phone dinging breaks him out of his thoughts.

 **otabek** : no i did  
**otabek** : helped close actually  
**otabek** : phichit wants me 2 go 2 this photography thing w/ him  
**otabek** : and i dont want 2 say no

Yuri snorted a little. It was exactly like the gentle giant to do something for his friends when he was deprived of sleep. He was the exact opposite of Yuri in that way.

 **yuri** : that’s your own fault, dumbass.  
**yuri** : have fun dying of sleep deprivation, while being a fucking nerd.

It seemed that Otabek wasn’t put off by his ‘assholeish’ ways (thanks, Victor) and didn’t falter in the slightest when he got a little harsh, responding as he would any other time. Most people would stop talking to him, exclaiming that he’s ‘so mean’ and the thought makes him laugh a little, but not Otabek. It was another thing that he liked about the guy. He’s quickly broken from his inner monologue when a hand snatches up his phone and Yuri cries out, quickly trying to grab it from the taller man, who’s scanning over his messages intently, as if he’s looking for something incriminating.

“Give it back, _mudak_ ,” He bellows and launches himself at the other, grappling for the phone as best as he can. He very likely looks ridiculous, but he doesn’t care, because that’s his phone and stupid fucking _Victor_ has it. He really has nothing to worry about and he knows that. His conversations with Otabek had been completely clean, G-rated, despite what they’d done at the club that night. But, it would be unlike him to _not_ throw a fit and he had a reputation to uphold.

Victor sighed and he almost looked disappointed, handing the device back to its rightful owner, who was currently clinging to him. “I _suppose_ you’re not in trouble,” He said and Yuri growled, clutching his phone close to his chest, as if the man would snatch it up any second.

“How many times do I have to tell you? You’re not my fa-”

“Sexting is off limits, though, young man. Don’t let me catch that on there,” Victor asserted, crossing his arms over his chest and cocking his hip out to the side. He looked like a parent scolding his _child_ , but Yuri wasn’t his fucking kid, so it only proved to make him angrier. He could feel that his face was red, the blush spread up to his ears and down in chest and that totally _annoying_ way.

And he nearly smirks, because he has _no fucking clue_. He doesn’t say anything however and grumbles a filthy curse under his breath, before he reaches for his coffee and downs the rest of it. “I’m taking some of your grounds,” He announces, heading into the kitchen. He grabs for one of their many containers, even as Victor is protesting behind him, complaining loudly.

“Fuck you, Victor,” He calls as he slips his shoes on, already halfway out the door. “Bye Katsudon,” He adds after a careful moment of consideration. He knows he’ll never hear the end of that, but Katsuki hadn’t irritated him like Victor, so he figured it was the _least_ he could do.

Yuri definitely is _not_ smiling softly as he walks in the direction of his own apartment.

♛♛♛

He doesn’t leave his apartment for the rest of the day, settling for lounging around on his couch, a warm cup of coffee next to him at all times. It’s really no wonder that he’s always out of coffee. On his days off he’s been known to drink six cups at the least, whether it’s healthy or not. Two of his cats are curled around his legs, pawing at his legs through his leggings. Sveta, his oldest cat, is curled up on his chest and it’s made scrolling through social media difficult, but he won’t make her move. He’s not a monster.

Yuri’s a bit disappointed that he hasn’t received any other texts from Otabek, because he knows that he doesn’t work tonight and how can a stupid photography thing go on all day long? He glances at the clock on his stove and sighs when he sees _9:37_ blinking at him angrily. He could go to the club and let loose a little bit, but he doesn’t want to go. Not just because Otabek won’t be there, but because only Phichit and Chris would be there and they’ll be working. It’s annoying and makes him pout like a child.

Then his phone makes that tell-tale ding and he’s scrambling to sit up, disturbing all three of his cats, who all go running in opposite directions. He runs a hand through his hair, before he pulls up the messages.

 **otabek** : u awake ?  
**otabek** : i finally managed 2 escape bc phichit had work  
**otabek** : but i cant sleep and would like to do something

Yuri’s biting at his lower lip, considering his options. To him, this sounds like a booty call and his chest swells up with disappointment, because if this is all the alpha was after, it’s gonna hurt a bit. He’ll get over it of course, but that doesn’t mean it won’t completely suck. He’s about to type back a snarky response, let the other know that he’s not about that, when his phone dings again.

 **otabek** : that sounded bad sorry  
**otabek** : this isnt a sex call or w/e its called  
**otabek** : i just have smthn i wanna show u

The young Russian is then smiling and he continues to nibble at his lip, quickly typing out a response.

 **yuri** : yeah, i’m awake.  
**yuri** : where do you want to meet?

♛♛♛

He’s given an address that turns out to be a small, hole-in-the-wall cafe with a neon pink sign in the window that reads ‘Open 24 Hours.’ He pushes inside, because it’s fucking cold, and isn’t surprised to see that there’s only one other person there. He asks for a table from a heavily-tattooed woman with blood red hair that just nods, telling him to take his pick.

He chooses a table close to the window, so he can see when the other arrives, and he waits to order, wanting suggestions from the man who supposedly goes here quite often. He’s eyeballing the large rack of pastries behind the counter, when a distant rumbling sound meets his ears. It only takes him a second to realize that it’s a motorcycle and then the motorcycle is parked outside of the dainty place, the rider slipping from the bike with a natural ease. It’s not hard for him to figure out who it is, but when the helmet slips from the other’s head and he sees the familiar undercut, it solidifies in his mind that he was actually there.

Otabek slips into the cafe and it takes him all but a second to spot Yuri, who’s nervously rubbing a hand against his thigh. His lips part into a slight smile and soon he’s sliding into the seat across from Yuri, setting his helmet down beside him on the floor.

“Hi,” Otabek breathes and Yuri is momentarily distracted by the slight blush on the other’s nose, taking in the sight and committing it to his memory.

“Hey,” He replies and he’s trying to remain casual, cool, collected, so the other doesn’t know how giddy he is. “Uh, I didn’t order. I figured I’d wait for the expert to advise me in my decision,” Yuri tells him and he’s surprised at how strong the teasing tone comes out, how he doesn’t waver. It seems to do the trick and the blush on Otabek’s face deepens and he momentarily relishes in the fact that _he_ caused _that_.

“I normally just get the vanilla latte. You like yours less sweet though, right?” He asks and he says it so casually that Yuri almost doesn’t pick up on the fact that he _remembered_ him mentioning that. He nods his head dumbly and Otabek is flagging down the tattooed girl, quickly ordering what he’d like. He looked at Yuri briefly and quirks his eyebrow, waiting for him to figure out what he wants. Normally, Yuri would go for something with as much caffeine as he can possibly get, but he doesn’t want to be up all night.

“I’ll have the gourmet hot cocoa,” Yuri informs the woman and she nods her head, before she’s gone and they’re left alone. He takes a moment to appreciate Otabek, paying special attention to the way his leather jacket is wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He’s thinking about what to say and asks the first thing that comes to mind. “Have I shown you my cats?”

He feels dumb and begins to mentally berate himself, but then Otabek has that small smile on his face and he’s shaking his head. Yuri pulls out his phone and is soon showing off his three babies, telling the other their names and that they’re all assholes, but they’re _his_ assholes. Otabek seems to be happy to listen, his chin propped on his hand as he looks at the hundreds of pictures Yuri has of his cats, chipping in here and there to compliment the felines.

Their beverages are soon in front of them and Yuri sips at the hot chocolate, nearly dissolving then and there, because it’s so fucking good. He wipes some of the whip cream from his upper lip as he mumbles praise in Russian, directed solely at the drink. Otabek seems to be enjoying the scene as he drinks his coffee, leaning back in his chair comfortable. Yuri lightly kicks at the other’s shin, telling him to ‘shut it,’ but that just seems to make the other _more_ amused.

He grumbles against warm glass of the cup, but he’s resisting the urge to smile. The atmosphere is comfortable after that and he quickly adapts to being in the presence of the other. They sip their coffee and talk about random things. He asks about the motorcycle and Otabek tells him that he’d just managed to fix it that morning. Whenever he brings up plants or music, the other’s face goes from stoic to excited in a moment and it’s so fucking adorable that Yuri can hardly stand it.

Soon, their cups were empty, but they stayed where they were, leaning forward, their feet brushing together beneath the table. Then, Yuri was fighting his yawns, tired but not wanting for this to end. However, when one finally escaped and his mouth opened wide, Otabek was calling for the check while Yuri protested, voice taking on a whiny tone. The Kazakh man simply shook his head and when the waitress returned, Yuri was quickly fumbling for his wallet, insisting that he at least pay for himself.

Otabek doesn’t let him.

“You’re a chivalrous _asshole_ ,” Yuri declared as they exited the warm cafe. He shivered a bit, but the sight of Otabek’s half smile made all of the cold disappear. “Seriously, I am more than capable of paying for myself.”

“Never said you weren’t,” Otabek retorted, throwing his leg over his bike. What he did next thoroughly confused Yuri. He held out the black helmet he’d come riding in with. Yuri’s eyebrows rose and Otabek laughed a bit. “You walked here. What kind of date would I be if I didn’t give you a ride when it’s this late at night?”

Yuri snorted and after a moment, spoke up. “I’ll let you take me home on one condition,” He stated, already pulling out his phone. “Let me take a picture of you and post it, so Victor will flip shit,” He negotiated, switching over to his camera, before he looked up at the other expectantly. Otabek rolled his eyes, but nodded his head. He looked rather awkward in the picture, his thumb sticking up and contrasting greatly with the black of his jacket, a blank expression on his face. Yuri chortled as he posted the picture with the caption ‘who said coffee was just for the morning?’ and several hashtags.

He was soon throwing his leg over the bulky, black bike and Otabek handed the helmet back to him. After wrestling with his hair for a moment, he finally had it over his head and clasped it under his chin. Otabek started up the motorcycle and Yuri realized that he didn’t have a helmet, much to his dismay. He prodded the other in the ribs and he turned his head a bit. The blonde lifted the visor up, so the other could hear him clearly.

“Where the fuck is your helmet?” He asks and there’s a certain bite to his tone, but other seems unaffected.

“You’re wearing it,” Otabek replies, before pausing. “I’ve got a chivalrous asshole reputation to keep up, remember?”

He tells the other his address and the dark-haired man nods his head and then they’re driving away from the cafe and in the direction of his apartment. He wishes that it was further away, because he’s perfectly content to stay there with his arms wrapped tightly around Otabek’s waist. The wind has a bite to it, but it doesn’t bother him much, not with how much heat the other seems to exude. It wraps him up in a blanket of warmth, assuring that the cold night doesn’t bother him much. It might’ve been summer, but the nights and mornings could still be treacherous.

Much to his disappointment, they were soon outside his apartment building and he was pulling the helmet off. He was resisting the urge to pout as he climbed off the bike, hovering beside the other for a moment, shifting from foot to foot. Then a gloved hand is reaching out to hold the tips of his fingers, bringing his attention back up to Otabek’s face. He seems to be struggling with something and there’s a dusting of pink across his cheeks, but Yuri figures it’s because of the cold.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks and his voice a far more nervous than it was the other night. He squeezes Yuri’s fingertips when he’s quiet for a bit too long and Yuri snaps out of his daze.

And Yuri scoffs.

“You’ve had my _dick_ in your mouth, I think you can-”

His words are cut off by a warm, smiling mouth and he’s melting into the other, wrapping his arms tightly around Otabek’s neck. He sighs and tilts his head to the side, effectively deepening the kiss. There’s a light nip to his lower lip and then Otabek is pulling away. He opens his eyes and stares at the other, a complaint on the tip of his tongue, but he just grumbles inaudibly and presses his face into the other’s neck. The scent there is unmistakably alpha and strong and sweet and overwhelming. Yuri thinks he might end up getting addicted to it.

A hand soothes down the plane of his back, a laugh rattling both of their figures. They pull away from each other after a few moments and Yuri let’s his arms drop from around the other’s neck, instead crossing them over his chest.

“Good night, Yura,” Otabek says and then he’s driving off, giving one last wave.

Yuri lets a happy sigh escape his lips and then he’s digging in his jacket pocket for his keys, walking up the cement steps to his second-story apartment. He unlocks the door with a bit of fumbling and when he enters, Anzu, the more loving of his three cats (despite the fact he’s named after a demon) greets him with an obnoxious meow. The black cat winds himself around his owner’s legs, obviously desperate for attention. Yuri is unable to resist picking him up and scratching behind his ears, dropping a kiss onto his smooth, soft head. His other cats aren’t anywhere to be found and he scoffs a bit, muttering a quick ‘assholes’ under his breath.

He glances at the clock and it’s nearly one in the morning. Another yawn rips through him and he sets Anzu down, heading back towards his bedroom to get ready for bed. He scoffs when he sees that Sveta is curled up in his favorite pillow, getting her thin, white hairs all over it. He sheds his shirt and then his leggings, before he crawls into his bed, gently shooing Sveta away from his pillow. She does so with a menacing look thrown in his direction and then she’s curled up against his side, purring contently in her sleep. He scoffs again.

He turns his phone on and quickly goes to instagram, where he’s sure a shit-show has started due to the photo he’d posted. Several of his fans have written things like ‘wtf this isn’t fair i’m almost legal’ and ‘he’s hot gfd get it yuri’ in all caps and he finds most of it annoying, but then he sees the comments that he’d posted the photo for in the first place and he smirks.

 **_v-nikiforov_** : going out with a strange, motorcycle riding boy in the middle of the night?  
**_v-nikiforov_** : you’re grounded forever  
**_v-nikiforov_** : wait until i tell your father about this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> resources:  
> [tumblr here](https://mxkell.tumblr.com)  
> [character outlines](https://docs.google.com/document/d/11kXlQpRv1fUudGGw7ooIDHuPdMRms0iaKR88vF06Vuw/edit?usp=sharing)  
> [pinterest boards](https://www.pinterest.com/makellrose/)
> 
> comments, kudos, and bookmarks fuel my smol self!
> 
> russian translations  
>  _mudak_ \- asshole


	3. III.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you know anyone else who would rudely interrupt your sleeping time?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, this chapter has been edited and republished! let me know if there are any errors. ^^

They’ve been going on dates as constantly as they can, but it proves to be difficult with their stupid ass schedules. When Yuri’s home after practice, he just wants to sleep; when Otabek is home during the day, he just wants to sleep. It’s not something he’s happy about, but he’s willing to live with it. For the moment, at least.

He’s currently at the studio, stretching himself out on the cool, white floor with ease. Mila is beside him, talking about God knows what, but he’s focused on Victor who’s currently fretting over Yuuri for absolutely _no_ reason. A little cold isn’t an excuse to not dance, he thinks, and if Victor ends up giving the Japanese man the day off, he’ll leave too, because fair is fair. Neither Lillia or Yakov are in today, so it’s not like he _had_ to be there, but he did have some sense of obligation.

The second that Yuuri shrugs on his jacket, Yuri is up off the floor, leaving a surprised Mila behind. “If the pig gets to go home, so do I,” He shouts as he simply slips on his own hoodie, not bothering to change fully. “And I want a ride, because I know you’re not going to make _him_ walk,” The blonde says, pointedly looking at Yuuri as he removes his ballet slippers and puts them in his bag. His leopard-print shoes are soon on his feet and he hoists his bag over his shoulder, staring expectantly at the nasty couple.

They’re soon making their way out the glass double doors that lead to the parking lot and Yuri follows after them, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his and Otabek’s messages. He soon settles on one and once he’s in the back seat of the car, leans forward between the two front seats.

“I want you to take me here,” He says simply and thrusts the device into Victor’s face, much to the other’s surprise. Katsudon glances over in curiosity, but nothing is said for a few long moments.

“I am _not_ taking you to your lover’s house,” Victor finally says and it’s _clear_ that he’s trying to get a rise out of Yuri, but he can’t stop the anger that’s now bubbling through his veins.

“He’s not my lover!” He shouts (and maybe that’s a lie, but who cares) and then he’s turning to Yuuri, because he knows how to work this situation. “Katsudon, can you please tell your insufferable, asshat of a fiancé to just take me there? Next time you do any sort of furniture-moving or whatever, I’ll help,” He barters.

The Japanese man regards him with wide eyes, glancing back and forth between the two of them. He was chewing at his lower lip a minute later and he knows he’s being selfish by asking this, but he doesn’t quite care. He’s done this a thousand times before and he’ll very likely continue to do so. At least, until he gets his own car.

“Victor,” Katsuki begins and with the sigh behind his words, Yuri _knows_ that he’s won and he shouts triumphantly once, before he’s sitting back in the seat, a smug smirk on his face. He considers texting Otabek, but he knows he’s asleep and he’d rather show up without warning, so he can see exactly what the other looks like when he’s all disheveled.

It’s a short drive and he could’ve walked, but it’s so much nicer this way. Victor is grumbling about ‘annoying alphas’ the entire way and Katsuki flicks him on the shoulder more than once. He slips from the vehicle once it’s stopped in front of the apartment complex, saying a quick good-bye, before he’s slamming the door shut. The car speeds off and then he’s walking towards the first apartment door to his left and then he’s knocking on it as loudly as he can.

He waits patiently (or as patiently as he can, he is Yuri Plisetsky) and resists the urge to laugh when he hears grumbled swearing and the unmistakable sound of something falling over. He hears the lock click out of place and then the door is being pulled open to reveal the most glorious sight he’s ever seen.

Otabek’s shirtless, which he’d been expecting, but it doesn’t make the sight any less _godly_ . There’s a sharp glint of light reflected off of something and heat coils in the blonde’s gut when he realizes that the guy’s _nipples_ are pierced. His hair is fuzzy from sleeping and flopped ungracefully over one of his eyes, which seem to be veiled with exhaustion. There are various lines imprinted into his skin and he’s got the most adorable confused expression on his face, pouty lips parted in an ‘o.’

“Yuri?” He asks and his voice is so wonderfully deep and scratchy from sleep. He reaches a hand up to push his hair out of his face and Yuri watches the action closely, before his eyes are back on the other’s.

“Do you know anyone else who would rudely interrupt your sleeping time?” He asks, eyebrow quirked up, a chirpy quality to his voice that’s just fucking _weird_. He’ll need to get that checked out later. He watches as Otabek continues to process all of this, frowning several times in the span of a minute. “Well, are you going to invite me in or not?” Yuri huffs and then Otabek is scrambling backwards, making a sweeping gesture with his hand.

The first thing he takes note of is that the apartment is small; like, far smaller than his own, and he thinks it suits Otabek for some reason. He doesn’t seem like the type of guy who carries a lot of things with him. The second is that it’s bathed in the scent of Otabek and nothing but. Yuri can feel a pleased hum bubbling in his throat, but he stops it before it makes its way out and embarrasses him.

The living room is shaped like a square and there’s a kitchen to his right made up of silver appliances and a black stove. There’s a sofa to his left that looks like it’s seen better days, a TV propped on the wall directly across from it, a bean bag in the center of the floor, and a desk pushed against the wall furthest from him.

There’s hardly any decorations on the wall, but there’s two pictures resting on the end table beside the couch and he decides he’ll look at them later. He hums as he drops his bag to the floor, turning to face the other who’s still staring at him, looking a bit dazed. He snorts and Otabek seems to snap out of it a bit, eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

“You don’t have practice?” He questions, raising an eyebrow.

“I was supposed to, but Katsudon got to go home, so I went too,” Yuri replies, shrugging his shoulders. “Katsudon is the other Yuuri,” He adds when the other’s frown deepens. The male nods in understanding and is then stepping forward, crowding into Yuri’s personal space. Not that the blonde minds in the least.

Strong arms are soon wrapped around his middle and he in turn wraps his arms around Otabek’s neck, breathing the other in. The scent that he’s come to associate with comfort and warmth has him practically melting against the other. It’s kind of ridiculous how comfortable he is in this alpha’s presence; how he was able to get inside his personal bubble in less than a few weeks. He doesn’t question it for now, however, and just focuses on melting into the other who is still incredibly warm from his bed.

There’s a bit of soft movement against his neck and he realizes too late that the other is talking, voice muffled by Yuri’s skin.

“Speak up,” Yuri scolds and flicks the back of Otabek’s neck, bringing a sleepy whine from the other, who just burrows himself into the Russian further.

“I said,” He repeats around a yawn, pulling back a bit so he can look Yuri in the face. “You smell good,” He says, a bit bashfully, his cheeks already reddening. It’s a wonder that the man who came in his pants just from sucking Yuri’s dick in a bathroom stall, is also a man who gets flustered when giving simple compliments. But, he never backs down whether he’s embarrassed or not and Yuri finds that to be incredibly endearing.

“You smell like booze and hormones,” Yuri says in turn and it leaves the other sputtering and pulling away. “I’m _kidding_ , you big baby,” The blonde snickers, shaking his head at the disbelieving look on Otabek’s face. “Trust me, if you smelled like that I would have left when you opened the door.”

“You’re an ass,” Otabek grumbles, but he’s dropping a kiss to the top of Yuri’s head a moment later, which tells him there’s no real harm in his words. Not that Yuri couldn’t take them in stride without so much as a second glance. He’s been called worse on multiple occasions. “I’m going back to bed,” He proclaims and Yuri falters for a moment, wondering if that means he has to go. The other is half-way down the hall before he’s bending down to pick up his bag. He’s halted by the other’s voice.

“You coming or what?”

Yuri looks up and Otabek is looking at him, that mask of confusion once again on his face. The Russian is scrambling to get his shoes off a moment later, shedding his jacket and draping it across the back of the couch, before he’s following after Otabek, his fingers tucking themselves into the waistband of his sweats. He isn’t surprised to find that Otabek’s bedroom is just as empty as the rest of his place. His bed his pressed against one of the walls, a guitar propped in a corner. There’s two doors and Yuri figures that one is a closet and the other a bathroom. The comforter on his bed is plush and a light grey, the pillows alternating between the same color and an extremely light purple.

“Cute,” He comments, but then he’s being tugged down onto the bed and it’s even softer than he’d thought it was. Otabek settles himself beneath the blankets and then rolls onto his side, gazing at Yuri. The blonde is currently sitting cross-legged beside him, picking at the material of the comforter awkwardly, his lips puckered in thought. If he’d thought the entrance had been thick with the alpha’s scent, it was suffocating in his bedroom.

“If you don’t wanna sleep, you can turn on the TV,” Otabek says and brings an arm out to point at it. It’s far smaller than the one in the living room, but propped up on the wall in the same way and Yuri briefly turns his attention to it. He shakes his head and then he’s flopping down onto his stomach, kicking his legs out, stretching himself out as much as he can. Otabek doesn’t seem to mind and just exhales heavily through his nose, tilting his face further into the pillow.

Yuri lays there, face pointed in the opposite direction of the Kazakh man, until his breathing evens out and then he shifts slowly. He’s soon looking at a sleeping Otabek in all of his glory. His hair has tumbled down over his closed eyelids and his mouth has gone slack, the normal tension there completely gone. He twitches every so often, sighs softly, and it scares the living shit out of Yuri to the point that he’s almost fallen off the bed three times.

The blonde inches a bit closer and his fingers twitch as he aches to trace the sharp, strong angle of Otabek’s jaw. He doesn’t though and instead rubs a hand over the soft comforter. He can’t help it when his eyes start to droop, the gentle sweep of his hand against the fabric coming to a halt. He’s tired, fucking sue him.

♛♛♛

Yuri wakes up when there’s quite a bit of movement beside him. It’s foreign to be laying next to something, much less _someone_. His nose wrinkles up and he opens his right eye just a crack, just so he can see what’s going on. Otabek is now sprawled out on his back, an arm tucked beneath his pillow, face tilted slightly in Yuri’s direction. His lips are parted a bit and soft snores keep bubbling up and out of that glorious mouth.

The blankets are gathered at his waist, which gives the blonde time to admire the silver barbells on the other’s chest. He hadn’t expected it, that was for sure, but he supposed it went with the guy’s aesthetic. And he _certainly_ wasn’t going to complain about it. It was fucking hot as shit.

Yuri sits there quietly for a few moments, head pillowed on his arms, eyes now fully open, before a thought springs to his mind and he’s smirking mischievously. He pushes himself up and closes the distance between himself and the sleeping man. He pauses, thinking it over a second time, but then he’s throwing a leg over the other’s covered hips and he’s leaning forward to press barely-there kisses across his face.

It takes a few moments, but there’s soon a hand sliding up to cup his waist and tan eyelids slide back to reveal dark, expressive eyes. Yuri pulls away just enough to see the confusion melt from Otabek’s face and give way to something tender, sleepy. He can’t help the smile that’s making the corners of his mouth twitch.

“Good morning,” The Russian purrs, pushing some of Otabek’s hair from his face, his fingers lingering against the other’s skin for a bit longer than necessary.

Otabek hums noncommittally as a response, eyes slipping closed for another long moment. Yuri huffs impatiently, which seems to pull him out of his sleepy stupor somewhat. “What?” He asks, eyebrows raised, but there’s an absolutely _annoying_ glint in his eye that shows he knows _exactly_ what Yuri wants.

Instead of dignifying him with a verbal response, Yuri grinds his hips down into the other’s, watching as a low moan stutters up from Otabek’s throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His green eyes lock onto the movement with interest, before he’s leaning forward to bite and lick and suck on the flesh of Otabek’s neck, relishing in the heavy sigh that leaves the other. He drags his tongue up the Kazakh’s hammering pulse, but by then it seems that Otabek has had enough, and now their lips are pressed together and _fuck_ he’s a good kisser.

The idea of having someone else’s tongue in his mouth has always been less than pleasant to Yuri and his thoughts on it only seemed to worsen when he’d walked in on Katsudon and Nikiforov fucking that one time. But, now, with Otabek’s tongue pressed to his, he finds that he quite likes it. Will he ever admit that to anyone? Hell fucking no.

He can feel the slightest bit of stubble rubbing against his face, though he doesn’t mind much. Especially not when he swiveled his hips back down and was greeted by Otabek’s hard-on pressing into his own. “Fuck,” He hisses against the other’s lips, hot breath fanning out over his face. He nips at the other’s lower lip and then pulls away, reaching down to shove at the blankets and the waistband of his sweats. He’s pleasantly surprised to find that Otabek isn’t wearing underwear, making it that much easier.

Yuri’s teeth are soon gnawing at the inside of his lower lip as soon as he sees Otabek’s dick and - _wow_. He doesn’t have much to compare it to (and nothing at all if porn doesn’t count), but he’s sure it’s at least the average size of an alpha and it’s fucking _thick_ and there’s this vein on the underside that Yuri would give anything to _lick_ and there are faded stretch marks at the base that -

“Yura,” Otabek breathes, bringing Yuri back from his momentary episode. The blonde snaps his gaze up and almost smirks when he sees the blush that’s on the other’s cheeks, the shyness behind his eyes. He hums in question, quirking an eyebrow, but Otabek just huffs quietly, impatiently. It’s fucking adorable.

Yuri leans forward to capture those pouty, kiss-bruised lips between his and sucks generously on the other’s lower lip. One of his hands is cupping the back of Otabek’s neck, while the other drags slowly down his abdomen, until his fingertips brush something hard and hot. Otabek makes a sort of choking noise and Yuri grins against his mouth, his hand now wrapped around the head of Otabek’s cock.

His strokes are slow, purposeful, his fingertips catching on the head every time he goes back up, the pressure increasing as he moves towards the base. Otabek is already panting into his mouth, pupils dilated and irises so fucking _dark_ that it causes the coil of heat in Yuri’s gut to grow hotter.

“W-wait,” The dark-haired male breathes and Yuri pulls back just enough to look at him, his hand stilling. His chest tightens a bit with panic, but then Otabek is nudging at his practice pants that do absolutely nothing to hide his erection. “You too.”

“Fucking gentleman,” Yuri snorts and it makes Otabek’s lips twitch upwards.

It takes him a few long, awkward moments of shifting and flailing to peel the tight, black material off his legs, his briefs pulled off with them. A shiver runs up his spine at the sudden exposure, the small amount of slick chilling where it was between his cheeks. Otabek watches, expression amused, and Yuri glares at him as he finally throws the offending articles of clothing to the floor. He strips his shirt off too, for good measure, and then he’s pressing back into Otabek to get that _stupid_ look off his face. He grinds down against the other and isn’t expecting the friction to feel so good and it punches a moan out of him, low and sultry.

“Shit, _Yura_ ,” Otabek curses, one of his hands now resting on Yuri’s hip, the grip there almost bruising. His other hand snakes between them and Yuri gasps when he feels rough, warm skin wrapped around his dick. He presses his forehead to Otabek’s collarbone and peers down at where he’s got his hands wrapped around them both, using the precum gathered at both their heads to slick them up somewhat. Yuri shudders at the sight, shifting to bury his face in the hot skin of Otabek’s neck, nose pressed lightly to the almost unnoticeable bump behind the alpha’s ear.

He feels teeth nipping at the lobe of his ear and then warm breath is tickling it, making him shiver with delight. “Thrust into my hand, _luchik_ ,” Otabek instructs, using the hand on Yuri’s hip to guide him a bit.

It starts with slow, experimental movements, Yuri testing what feels best for him and what causes the most reaction from Otabek. He’s lifted his head up and away from Otabek’s neck, one hand cupping the back of his neck again, the other pressed flat against his chest. He swivels his hips downwards, a groan tumbling from his lips with each miniscule movement. Otabek’s hand on his hip has tightened and his exhales are hot and heavy, his chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. Yuri leans forward to capture the other’s lips between his as he works out a decent rhythm, his fingers at the back of Otabek’s neck curling in.

His hips stutter when Otabek’s tongue laves over his lower lip, a gasp leaving his mouth. The hand on his hip has slid further down to grab at his ass, which works better when it comes to guiding Yuri’s movements, it seems. He’s soon pulling away from Otabek, his lips slick with spit, face set in determination, and rocking his hips downward, hard and fast. It doesn’t take very long for him to reach the edge, holding back out of sheer force of will.

“Beka, _fuck_ , I’m so close,” Yuri whines, pressing his forehead to Otabek’s. “You first, please come for me.”

It’s not a second after that, that Otabek’s mouth parts and a long, guttural moan slips free. His hips cant upwards once, twice, his eyes squeezed shut as he rides out his high. Thick, opaque ropes of come seem to stream endlessly from the other, and for once Yuri understands what Mila had been talking about when she’d said that ‘alphas just never _stop_.’ It’s such a brilliant fucking sight that with one more short slide of Yuri’s cock against Otabek’s, the blonde is spilling out across the other’s abdomen.

Yuri collapses down against the other, his face pressed back into the crook of his neck, completely fucking boneless. He can’t bring himself to worry about the mess at the moment. He works to gather his breath and feels when Otabek is doing the same, the movement of his chest soon slowing until it’s rising and falling at a soothing rate. Yuri makes a noise of protest when the other shifts, the sound muffled by Otabek’s warm skin. The Kazakh’s chest jolts a bit when he chuckles and Yuri tilts his head to the side _just_ enough so he can look up at the other.

“What?” He asks defensively, a scowl quickly making its way onto his face. Otabek’s small smile grows a bit wider and he reaches a hand up to push Yuri’s hair from his face.

“Nothing, just,” He pauses, tongue running over his lips. “Beka, huh?”

“Shut up!” Yuri nearly wails, delivering a weak punch to Otabek’s bicep. It only seems to make the other laugh harder. “C’mon, this is gross. Let’s go shower,” He grumbles, peeling himself away from the other, his face turning sour at the mess.

Otabek’s bathroom is small, like the rest of his apartment, and holds very few things. Yuri toys with the man’s shaving cream, spinning it idly while Otabek gets the shower working. When it’s finally warm he sets the can back where he’d gotten it from and slips into the shower, a pleased groan rumbling up from his chest. Otabek slips in a few minutes after and it’s obvious that this shower wasn’t meant to fit two full grown men, even with Yuri’s lithe body. Otabek has to duck his head in order to get it wet and it makes Yuri wonder why the big _dope_ would rent this apartment in the first place.

The blonde reaches for a bottle that he guesses is the shampoo and looks it over before confirming that yes, it is and, if he’s reading the washed out, peeling label correctly, it’s supposed to smell like _Cinnamon Buns_. Yuri can’t help but snort. He’s not surprised in the least.

He’s about to squeeze some into the palm of his hand when Otabek grabs his wrist, prompting him to look at the other. Red is staining his cheeks and it makes Yuri’s ego swell. “I could - uh, wash it for you, um if you’d like,” He stutters out, clearly not confident that Yuri would be okay with that.

And for other people, the answer would be hell-to-the-fucking-no. Ever since he’d first decided to grow his hair out, people flocked to touch it, like it’s going to feel any fucking different because he’s a _dude_ with long fucking hair.

But, Otabek? The guy could touch any part of Yuri that he wanted and the blonde wouldn’t protest; not that he’d want to either.

“Sure,” He finally says in response and Otabek sighs in relief, taking the shampoo from him a moment later. Yuri manages to turn around, now facing the back end of the shower instead of the front. He waits somewhat patiently, but he really can’t help it when his foot starts to tap against the warmed tile. He’d be willing to admit later on, however, that waiting those few, long moments was absolutely worth it.

Otabek’s hands are fucking magical. He doesn’t press too hard or rake his nails against Yuri’s skull, but seems to know the right kind of pressure to apply and he’s able to get all of the golden strands soaped up, something Yuri struggles to do on a daily basis. He _almost_ whines when Otabek’s hands are no longer massaging his scalp, but holds it down because he’s Yuri fucking Plisetsky. The other man coaxes him under the spray and he obliges, tipping his head back, his hands reaching up to push the suds down and away.

They step out when the water starts to run cold, not minding much since they were both already clean and were mostly just enjoying the warmth and closeness of the other. Yuri’s got a towel in his hair and one wrapped around his waist when he’s about to exit the bathroom, but Otabek grabs him by the arm.

“I brought you clothes,” He says with a quick jerk of his head towards them, where they’re sitting on the closed toilet seat. “They might be kinda big, but I figured it’d be better than having to wear your practice stuff.”

Yuri glances over to the clothes and nods his head, detaching himself from Otabek to get closer to the toilet. He unwraps his hair and dries it off a bit more, before slinging it over his shoulder. He does the same with the one around his waist and then he’s grabbing for the pair of boxers that are a dark teal color. They slip down when he’s pulled them up, so he rolls the waistband of them up once. The shirt is the logo of some old band, he’s sure, and it’s a little stretched out and worn, but when he slips it over his head it’s unbelievably soft and smells like… well, Otabek.

Yuri turns with the two towels now folded up under his arm, his eyes soon watching as Otabek shaves away the tiny bit of stubble on his face. The shaving cream contrasts greatly with his tanned skin and Yuri briefly wonders if that’s how pale _he_ looks when he stands next to Otabek. He wouldn’t doubt it.

He glances around and spots a hamper tucked away near the door and tosses the towels into it, before he’s inviting himself back into Otabek’s room and collapsing back onto the bed. He shuffles a bit and manages to get himself beneath the blankets, head on a pillow when Otabek returns and starts to pick up their forgotten clothes from earlier. He disappears into the bathroom for a moment and then he’s back, crawling over Yuri and laying down directly next to the wall. Yuri inches a little closer and rolls onto his stomach, the blankets tangling around him. He huffs and works to disentangle himself, before he’s reaching a hand out to lightly flick at one of Otabek’s nipple piercings. He doesn’t miss the quiet gasp that leaves the other. He’ll explore that later.

“You got any other piercings I don’t know about?” The Russian asks, quirking an eyebrow up at Otabek.

“I think you’ve seen most of me at this point,” Otabek replies, readjusting himself so he’s at Yuri’s eye level. “Why, would you have a _problem_ if I did?” He questioned, his tone teasing.

“Absolutely,” Yuri deadpans, but Otabek sees right through him and scoffs, reaching over Yuri for his cellphone that’s apparently tucked up under the pillow. The blonde watches him for a moment, before a yawn forces him to stop. He’s then tucking himself into Otabek’s side, cheek pressed to his right pectoral. Yuri drapes a hand across the other’s abdomen and hooks his leg up onto Otabek’s waist, turning his face further into him.

“I’m gonna sleep,” He announces and Otabek responds by running a hand through his hair, still scrolling through his phone. Yuri looks up with a scoff and prods the other in the rib. “Sleep _with_ me, Beka,” And if there’s a little bit of whininess in his voice, who fucking cares, because the next second Otabek is settling down into him, his phone tossed aside.

It doesn’t take long for either of them to pass out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> resources:  
> [tumblr here](https://mxkell.tumblr.com)  
> [character outlines](https://docs.google.com/document/d/11kXlQpRv1fUudGGw7ooIDHuPdMRms0iaKR88vF06Vuw/edit?usp=sharing)  
> [pinterest boards](https://www.pinterest.com/makellrose/)
> 
> comments, kudos, and bookmarks fuel my smol self!
> 
> russian translations  
> luchik - sunbeam/little ray of light


	4. IV.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You want me, right? Just me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay! this one is edited too~

Yuri learns a lot of new things about Otabek in the next few weeks, mostly due to the fact that they’ve been spending more and more nights together; as many as they can possibly squeeze in. He learns that the man likes to be up early, but wakes slowly and is capable of going back to sleep in the span of a few seconds. He likes boring cereals with no flavor and won’t even add _sugar_ to it. He’s the middle child and has one younger brother and sister, and one older brother and sister. He likes to be the big spoon and doesn’t let go of Yuri _at all_ while they’re sleeping. The alpha part of him likes taking care of Yuri, something he’d admitted with a flushed face. And, more often than not, he wakes up rock fucking hard.

In fact, he’s just finished sucking Otabek off and is in desperate need of some relief of his own, when there’s a knock on the fucking front door. Otabek looks like he’s in another realm entirely, so Yuri pushes himself up and opens his bedroom door. His cats scatter out, since they’d probably been waiting for him to let them back in, and he curses loudly as he trips over them, scolding them as he makes his way down the hall.

Yuri should’ve known not to open the door when he heard the excited chatter behind it, but he realized too late _who_ it was. He unlocks it and pulls it open, almost shouting when he sees Katsudon and Victor standing there with a bag of something that smells amazing and a drink carrier with three coffee cups. He shifts so his lower half is hidden behind the door, pressing the heel of his hand down into his erection _hard_. It doesn’t take much effort for it to ebb away, but his annoyance only seems to heighten.

“What?” He says in lieu of a proper greeting, tone as stiff as his body.

“Don’t _what_ us, Yurio, we brought you breakfast,” Victor chastises and then they’re both pushing in, flicking on the lights they pass as they go. They settle down in the kitchen - _thank fucking god_ \- and their incessant chatter fills the normally dark and silent apartment rather well. It’s not longer before the contents of the bag - pastries and muffins - are spread out on the counter of the island and Yuuri has a hold of Sveta, one of Yuri’s cats, and is petting her while sipping his coffee.

The blonde is about to sneak off to his bedroom to warn Otabek of the situation, when he hears him call ‘Yura’ in question down the hall. Yuri visibly tenses and turns his head to look at Victor and Yuuri, who have frozen completely, a pastry hanging from the Russian’s mouth, a hand unmoving on the top of his cat’s head.

He appears and stops at the start of the hallway, shifting awkwardly when all eyes are on him. He’s dressed completely and there’s no signs of what they’d been doing prior to the arrival of Nikiforov and Katsuki, but the memory still makes Yuri’s cheeks burn red hot. “Uh, this is Otabek,” He says and Otabek waves slightly, stilling looking incredibly uncomfortable. “He’s my… Otabek.”

And Yuri is slapping himself mentally, because that sounded stupid, but they’d never discussed labels and he didn’t want to force something onto Otabek that the other didn’t want. It’s quiet for a few more moments and then Victor calls ‘ _priyatno poznakomit'sya_ ’ at the same time Yuuri says the sentiment in English and then they’re making those stupid heart eyes at each other and stuffing their faces again.

Yuri slides over to Otabek while they’re distracted and slips an arm around his waist, his cheek pressed to the other’s chest. “If I had known they were coming I would’ve snuck you out the window,” The blonde tells the other and he chuckles, running a hand though Yuri’s hair.

“I have to meet them one way or another, right?” Otabek asks and Yuri huffs, nodding his head. He can still feel the tension in Otabek’s body. He knows that he gets incredibly anxious when it comes to being around unknown people, which is why Yuri would have preferred to have this meeting be a little more planned, but it was happening and they would just have to suck it up for the time being.

Yuri settles down on one of the stools sat beside the island, while Otabek stands close, occasionally brushing up against the blonde. It’s comfortable and Yuri drinks his coffee, Otabek politely declining when asked if he wants any.

“So, Otabek, what do you do for a living?” Victor asks and the comfortability melts away, Yuri quickly turning his harsh gaze towards the steel-haired man. He knows he doesn’t mean any harm and he’s not really that frustrated, but still. He could cut Otabek _some_ slack.

“You’ve literally been to the club he works at,” Yuri scoffs, eyebrows drawn together in what he hopes to be a scolding frown.

“There’s nothing wrong with making a little bit of conversation, Yurio,” The older man says, as if this is the thousandth time he’s had to remind Yuri. The nickname bothers Yuri more than what he actually says and he grumbles into his coffee, glancing over at Katsudon, who is still showing the cat ample amounts of attention.

“Uh, well,” Otabek begins, running his tongue over his slightly chapped lips. “I DJ, mostly, but I like to stay after hours to help restock the bar and kitchen and clean up any mess. And sometimes I help out at this garage, but I don’t actually get paid for that,” He explains, his words put together slowly, carefully.

The conversation made between Otabek and Yuri’s ‘adoptive parents’ (no) mostly consists of topics you’d talk about when meeting someone for the first time, so Yuri busies himself with eating to his heart's content, despite hearing Lilia’s nagging voice in his head. He only chips in when he feels it’s beneficial, but mostly just leans into Otabek and scrolls through instagram, scoffing when pictures of JJ and his stupid fiancé show up in his feed. He makes sure to comment something nasty on them, though not nearly as bad as what he would’ve said when he was younger. He has _matured_. At least, somewhat.

“What’re your intentions with Yurio?” He hears and it causes the blonde to snap his head up and glare at Victor, who’s got a cheery fucking smile on his face. Yuri is about to tell him to ‘shut the fuck up,’ when Otabek starts to speak, dismissing the young Russian’s thoughts entirely.

“I like him a lot. And I’d just like to see how our relationship develops and go with things as they change, I guess,” Otabek replies and he sounds a little unsure and not confident in himself at all. The way he keeps looking down at Yuri, as if to double check that what he’s saying is okay, is enough to tell the blonde that he’s extremely nervous. Yuri just presses closer to him as a reassurance and looks back down at his phone.

The conversation shifts a bit after that and it no longer seems like an interrogation. Yuuri is talking about his upcoming program and how excited he is to showcase it. Yuri rolls his eyes, but it’s nice to hear the the pig being confident in himself, even if he won’t admit that aloud. Victor is staring at him as if he’s the only person in the room, his chin resting on the palm of his hand. It’s disgusting - but he supposes that he might look like that when he’s staring at Otabek.

Somehow, he agrees to letting the two geezers stay for a bit longer and they end up on his couch, an old Russian romance film playing on the television. Victor is translating the bits that Yuuri doesn’t know, though Yuri is sure he’s only saying the cheesiest lines, if the way Katsudon is blushing is anything to go by. His couch really isn’t big enough for them all, so Yuri’s got his back pressed to the armrest, his legs thrown over Otabek’s lap, while the two lovebirds hog whatever is left.

Otabek’s hand is running through his hair and he leans into the touch, savoring every moment. It’s nice, not having to worry about working or dancing or bills or other stupid adult shit. Otabek is warm and real and comforting and _his_ , even if there aren’t any labels attached. Yuri knows.

There’s still a gnawing feeling in his gut, however, and it’s foreign to the blonde and completely unpleasant. He realizes when Otabek nuzzles into his cheek, lips meeting the soft skin there, that he’s feeling fucking _jealous_. Of what, he doesn’t know, because Otabek barely has time for him, there’s no fucking way that he’s got somebody else. And he doesn’t think Otabek is that type of person. He’s never given Yuri a reason to not trust him, but the feeling is only increasing by the second and it makes him go tense in the other’s arms. Something Otabek notices immediately. He pauses his affections, his eyebrows puckered together in a frown and he whispers Yuri’s name, concern present in his tone.

But, Yuri doesn’t say anything and forces himself to relax, leaning into Otabek just to be safe. The other’s frown melts away, though Yuri knows that he still wants to ask what’s wrong, but he doesn’t. The blonde is grateful for that.

Otabek ends up falling asleep half-way through the movie, unsurprisingly really. He’d had the energy sucked out of him, literally, and the thought alone made Yuri chortle. The big dope has got his head pressed into Yuri’s neck, something that absolutely cannot be comfortable, and his one arm is still wrapped around Yuri, the other draped across his legs. He’s snoring softly against the blonde’s neck and it fucking _tickles_ , but he refuses to move, refuses to disturb the other.

For the moment, the feeling dies down and he forgets about it.

♛♛♛

It makes itself reknown a week or so later, when Yuri’s managed to force his overworked body into Chris’ club, just to see Otabek play. He hasn’t since the night they’d met and it didn’t bother Otabek - he’d assured the blonde of this several times, but it still made Yuri feel like shit.

Katsudon and Victor tagged along after discovering his plans and though he put up a bit of a fight, he was happy they were there.

He was three or so drinks in when Otabek finally stopped playing, Leo de la Iglesia climbing the stage after him to start his own set. Yuri was sat at one of the tables, sipping some fruity liquid through a straw, the drink cold on his tongue, but burning when it slid down his throat. He’s not sure if Otabek knows he’s there or not, because Yuri had sent him a text, but he probably hadn’t gotten the chance to check his phone or his messages. He was working, after all.

The blonde watches as Otabek starts to walk in his direction, but is halted by a group consisting of two guys and three girls. They’re all wearing minimal clothing and what they do have on is so tight it looks like a second skin. It’s _very_ clear to Yuri what their congratulating touches and suggestive stances mean, he’s not so tipsy that he can’t figure it out on his own. And he’d laugh at Otabek if he wasn’t getting so pissed off, because the man had no fucking clue what they were doing, what they wanted.

It’s only when one of the girls presses her hand flat to Otabek’s chest -  _his_ Otabek’s chest, his _Alpha_ ’ _s_ chest - that he slides from his seat and stalks over, murderous words on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t say much, however, when he pushes between two of them, effectively removing the hand from Otabek’s chest. He doesn’t think twice about stretching up to kiss Otabek with an open mouth, arms wrapped around his neck. And it fucking hurts when Otabek doesn’t kiss back, when he pushes Yuri away gently.

Yuri tries to pull away, to escape, because he feels fucking stupid and his eyes are starting to sting, but Otabek’s arm is tight around his waist and won’t let him go. If it was anyone else, he would’ve made a scene, but he settles for keeping his face away from Otabek’s observant eyes. There’s no doubt that Otabek would notice the unshed tears immediately.

The other man says something that he doesn’t catch and then he’s being pulled away from those people and if he wasn’t upset, he would have thrown them a smug look.

He feels cold air against his skin a few moments later and realizes, belatedly, that they’re standing outside. Otabek is coaxing him into wearing his leather jacket a moment later, despite the fact that he’s only got a tank-top on, and Yuri doesn’t argue for once; he’s still too focused on fighting his own emotions.

They’re soon in his apartment, the door unlocked because Yuri never remembers to lock the damn thing and it drives Otabek nuts. He doesn’t comment on it right now, however, and just takes his jacket when Yuri slips it from his shoulders, before toeing his shoes off both feet. His cats run to greet him, but he’s not in the mood to bend down and pet them, so he instead walks past them so he can get to his room.

He collapses on the bed and turns away from the door, because he knows Otabek is going to walk in and if Yuri sees his dumb, soft eyes he’s going to break down. He lays there with his face pressed into a pillow and listens as Otabek moves out in the living room, before footsteps start to approach the bedroom and then stop all together. He can _feel_ Otabek’s eyes on him and he wants to squirm, but he stays still and waits.

“Yura?” Otabek calls softly, concern laced into every part of his voice and it’s fucking annoying.

“What?” Yuri snaps, flinching at the own harshness of his words. He’s being an asshole, he knows that. Beka doesn’t deserve this, he knows that too, but he’s feeling rejected and his first instinct is to lash, to push.

There’s a bit more movement and he feels a finger on his jaw that’s trying to coax his face out of the pillow. And he regrets it the moment he moves, because those stupidly dark eyes are staring into his and he’s biting the inside of his cheeks _hard_ to keep himself from blubbering like a big, insecure baby. He doesn’t stop even when the coppery taste of blood stains his tongue, because it’s helping somewhat.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Yuri isn’t even able to get a strained ‘I’m fine’ out, before there are fat, hot tears gliding over the bridge of his nose and down his cheek. A sob leaves his throat and then he’s being repositioned, held in two strong arms, his face pressed into an equally strong chest. He feels dumb, dramatic, but Otabek just murmurs reassurances and sweet little things that make Yuri feel so fucking wanted. He cries until his chest aches and his eyes burn, Otabek’s shirt is wet and Yuri’s face is sticky with the leftover trails of the tears he’d shed. He turns his face away from the damp material to look up at the other, who’s frowning down at him, jaw clenching and unclenching.

“You want _me_ , right? Just me?” Yuri chokes out and he’s mortified, but he needs to ask, because otherwise it’s going to bother him more and more until he loses his fucking mind. “No other _omegas_?” He adds for good measure, his anxiety only getting worse by the second.

Beka looks shocked, his eyebrows raising and his lips pressing into a thin, tight line. “Of course I want you, Yura. What -.” And then it looks as if he’s come to some sort of realization, his mouth parted in an ‘o,’ his eyes gone soft again. “Is this because of what happened in the club?”

Yuri nods. Otabek laughs quietly.

“I pushed you away because you drank. _A lot_. It doesn’t feel - I don’t - I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you,” He admits, stumbling over his words. He pushes a hand through Yuri’s tangled hair, gently getting rid of the knots as he goes. “There’s nobody else in the world I want. Just you. No other omegas,” Otabek adds as further reassurance and Yuri surges upwards, wrapping his arms around Otabek’s neck. It’s an awkward angle and he won’t be able to stay in it long, but it feels good for the time being.

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

The words tumble from Yuri’s mouth before he can stop them and if he’d been sober, he would’ve panicked and let go. Instead, he squeezes Otabek tighter, refusing to release him.

“Ask me again in the morning,” Is what Otabek says and Yuri sighs irritably, but nods his head and finally lets go.

Otabek helps him undress until he’s only in his briefs and then grabs for one of the several shirts that Yuri has managed to swipe from Otabek’s apartment. Yuri pulls it on and hums contently, laying back on the bed, twisting and writhing until he’s finally comfortable. The scent of the shirt and the bed together worked together to relax him, pushing all tension from his body. He watches as Otabek undresses and doesn’t look away when he’s glanced at, though his cheeks heat up. He convinces himself it’s the alcohol.

Once Otabek is settled on the bed, Yuri attaches himself to the other’s side, pressing a soft, wet kiss to Otabek’s bare bicep. Yuri doesn’t miss the shaky exhale he lets out, before he’s winding an arm around the Russian, pulling him in closer. “Good night, Yura.”

“Night, Beka.”

♛♛♛

Yuri wakes up to a mouthful of cat hair. Sveta is curled up on his face, attempting to suffocate him probably, and she meows loudly when he sputters suddenly, pushing himself up. He watches as she high-tails it out of the bedroom, now desperately scraping at his tongue with his fingers to get rid of the thin, white hair. After he’s finished and satisfied, he notices that the space beside him is empty, his head is throbbing, and something smells _really_ good.

The Russian pushes himself up and out of bed, hissing when his feet hit the cold floor. He flexes his toes and is then walking out of the room, heading in the direction of the smell and soft humming. When he enters the kitchen, the sight before him makes his heart swell.

Otabek’s cooking, which he’d assumed, with Vlasi sat on the counter beside the stove. The older man tries to offer the orange feline some of the bacon he’s cooked, but with a sniff, the cat turns his head and rejects the handout. The muscles in Otabek’s back shift as he shrugs and continues what he’d been doing, humming along to the music that’s playing from his phone.

Yuri approaches a moment later and wraps his arms around Otabek’s mid-section, hooking his chin over his shoulder. One of the taller man’s hands slide down to rub at Yuri’s forearm, his head turning to place a light kiss to the blonde’s forehead. “Feeling better?” He asks and Yuri nods, thumbs gliding over the taut muscles of Otabek’s abdomen.

“So?” Yuri says and he knows there’s a confused frown on Otabek’s face without having to look at him.

“So, what?”

“Are you gonna be my boyfriend or not?” Yuri questions, voice a little aggressive. He’s blushing like Katsudon right now, though, and doesn’t want to seem vulnerable. He’d already had his moment last night and he wasn’t eager to have a repeat of that situation.

Otabek hums, as if thinking about it, until Yuri jabs his thumb slightly into his stomach and then he chuckles. “Yes, I’ll be your boyfriend,” He replies and Yuri smiles against his shoulder, pressing a kiss against Otabek’s warm skin. He pulls away after a moment and props himself up on one of the stools at the island, gazing at the other’s back. He’s struck with a though, so he doesn’t stay still for long and is soon heading back to the bedroom, grabbing for his phone that Otabek must have put on charge last night.

Yuri returns with a mischievous little smile, sliding back onto the stool. He quickly snaps a picture of Otabek’s shirtless self, his back to Yuri, still focusing on his cooking. The blonde decides it doesn’t need a filter and goes straight to instagram, posting it with the caption ‘best boyfriend #breakfast #iguesshesakeeper.’

He ignores Victor’s excited comments that are in all caps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> resources:  
> [tumblr here](https://mxkell.tumblr.com)  
> [character outlines](https://docs.google.com/document/d/11kXlQpRv1fUudGGw7ooIDHuPdMRms0iaKR88vF06Vuw/edit?usp=sharing)  
> [pinterest boards](https://www.pinterest.com/makellrose/)
> 
> comments, kudos, and bookmarks fuel my smol self!
> 
> russian translations  
>  _priyatno poznakomit'sya_ \- nice to meet you


	5. V.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Vitya told me that you’ve been seeing a boy. An alpha boy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! I've decided I will be updating every Friday, that way it's not at the beginning of the week when I tend to be busier and is instead at the end when I have more time to edit and whatnot. I've actually been zooming when it comes to this fic now and it's kind of really surprising to me? I'm really happy to be back, though.
> 
> I also made a [document](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ninZ4kfUBiIbB3XjHJFiM6MZw4Cql2ES4RLyq--IhQc/edit?usp=sharing) with information on this a/b/o universe if anybody is interested in specifics! If there's something I left out that you're curious about, comment about it or message me over at my tumblr and I'll write a section up on it!
> 
> Happy reading~

Yuri was peacefully asleep, arms wrapped around a pillow that had grown warm due to his body heat, blankets tangled up in his legs. The soft, dulled, and sleepy scent that belonged to Otabek filled the room and the male’s hot breath spilled down Yuri’s neck, which would have caused him to shiver if he was fully-conscious. He tried shifting away, growing too hot, but the alpha quickly trailed after him, the arm thrown over his waist tightening.

He supposes it’s not an awful thing that his phone rings, seen as how he would’ve woken up due to the human furnace pressed to his back in a few minutes, but it doesn’t stop him from grumbling when he lifts his head from the pillow. He shoves at Otabek’s head and without any signs of rousing, the older male rolls to face away from the omega, soft snoring resuming as soon as he’s settled. Yuri scoffs in his direction.

He grabs his phone from the nightstand and rests the side of his head back on the pillow, phone pressed to the ear that wasn’t pressed to the cushion. “ _Zdravstvuyte_ ,” He murmurs into the phone, voice rough with sleep.

“Are you still sleep, Yuratchka? Didn’t I teach you better? It’s nearly eight,” A low, aged voice shouted at him in Russian, causing him to startle and push himself up in bed, ignoring when Otabek moves back over to place his head on Yuri’s thigh. The blonde is unsure how he’s still sleeping.

“ _Dedushka_ ,” Yuri breathes heavily, voice slightly annoyed, but in a way that was loving more than anything else. His thin pale fingers started to comb through the sleep-tangled mess of Otabek’s undercut, snorting quietly when he unconsciously leaned into Yuri’s touch.

“Don’t speak to me like that. I send you off to live closer to Victor and you’re starting to act like him,” His grandfather ranted good-naturedly, sounds in the background tipping off to Yuri that his grandfather was currently baking. “Speaking of him, he told me something this morning.”

Yuri’s hand froze and the fond gaze that had been settled on the sleeping form of his boyfriend quickly halted as he looked up, staring at the wall across from him. His chest swelled with anxiety at the possibilities of what Victor had said, because the platinum-haired omega knew more about him than anyone else.

“What was it?” Yuri questioned, fighting to keep his voice calm and collected. He didn’t need his grandfather picking up on his distress, because it’d only make the elderly man avoid the topic of conversation.

His grandfather swears and the phone seems to clatter down, before it's picked up and he resumes the conversation. “Sorry, Yuratchka. Sliced my finger. But, Vitya told me that you’ve been seeing a boy. An _alpha_ boy, at that, and for quite some time and I’ve heard nothing of it.”

Yuri shouts in frustration and while it doesn’t shock his grandfather, the man had witnessed when he’d started to present as an omega, Otabek is startled awake. He glances around frantically, eyes bleary and bloodshot from being woken so suddenly, his hair hanging in his face. “Whas’ going on,” He slurs, voice hoarse, looking up at Yuri. The blonde shushes him and scratches at the short hairs on the back of his head, until the alpha has settled back down and is back to sleep.

“I’m going to strangle him,” Yuri growls and his grandpa immediately starts in on scolding him. His grandfather is a very devoted and serious pacifist and has attempted to break his grandson’s habit of making bodily threats, but it’s never worked out and to this day it still irritates him. “It’s not his business to tell, _grandpa_ ,” Yuri bites out, cutting off his grandfather mid-rant. “I was going to tell you, but we’ve only been together officially a month. And you’re kind of an important figure in my life and I _know_ you’ll try to scare him off.”

“I won’t _scare_ him off, Yuratchka. If he can’t take a little intimidation, he doesn’t deserve to be with my grandson,” His grandfather retorted, causing Yuri to groan. Otabek shifted against him and the blonde glanced down, checking to see if the alpha was still snoozing, index and middle finger tracing over the line of his stubbled jaw, before he turned his attention back to the phone call.

“He doesn’t _need_ intimidation, _dedushka_. He’s a good guy, a good _alpha_ ,” Yuri insisted, but if there was anything he and his grandfather had in common, it was their irritatingly strong stubborn streaks.

“I’m sure he is, but I’d like to see so for myself. It’s not appropriate for me to not at least meet him. Bring him over for dinner tonight. Victor and Yuuri will be there too,” Nikolai stated, as if it was a suggestion, but Yuri knew that once his grandfather thought of something, it was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not. The blonde rubbed at his face before he muttered a ‘fine’ and an ‘I love you,’ before he was hanging it.

He quickly switched to his messages and pulled up the thread with the contact name ‘geezer,’ sending a plethora of expletives and red-faced emojis to the man who had spilled his secret, before he set his phone back on the nightstand, and shimmed down so he was lying close to Otabek’s sleeping face. He leans forward after a moment and starts to place soft, barely-there kisses to the warm skin of the other’s cheeks, and forehead, and nose, hoping it’d be enough to rouse him. He smirks when Otabek’s charcoal eyes open briefly, only to close again.

“A good alpha, huh?” He asks, tone smug. Yuri sputters quickly as he realizes that Otabek had likely been awake for the majority of the conversation and pushes himself back up, glowering down at the ravenette.

“Didn’t your mother teach you it’s _rude_ to eavesdrop?” The blonde scolded, eyebrows pinched together as he watches Otabek roll onto his back, stretching his arms up and over his head.

“I wouldn’t call it eavesdropping when you’re so loud, Yura. It is rude, however, to wake up your boyfriend by yelling, though,” The bastard hums, before he’s pushing himself up and leaning in for a kiss. Yuri quickly stops his advances and pushes his face away, grumbling a reminder about ‘morning breath,’ which causes Otabek to pout. “What was the conversation about, anyway? With who?”

Yuri considers him for a moment, until Otabek raises his eyebrows, prompting him to answer. “Victor fucking told my grandfather about you. Which, it’s not like I was _hiding_ you or anything, but my grandfather is intense and I didn’t want to scare you off. But, now he knows, and we’re going over to dinner at his place tonight,” The blonde rambled out in response, teeth worrying at his lower lip. He hoped that Otabek would take kindly to the idea. He knew of the ravenette’s discomfort when it came to situations that were full of pressure, especially when it involved new people. “You don’t have to go, though. I can make some excuse. You’re sick or working or -.” Yuri had began to ramble, but was silenced by a rough finger against his lips.

“I’ll go, Yura. I think it’s been long overdue. It is your _grandfather_ ,” Otabek stated, tone reassuring, but there’s a bit of tension in his body that wasn’t there before and Yuri notices immediately. Otabek knows the important role that Nikolai has played in his life, seen as how he’d been raised by the older man and couldn’t even remember anything about his parents. Not that he particularly cared to, either. The fact that Otabek’s so eager, albeit a little nervous, to meet the man who cared for him is touching in a way that he can’t describe well enough.

“Well, you’d better brush your teeth. I am _not_ bringing you to meet my grandfather when it smells like something died in your mouth,” Yuri quipped, trying to lighten the mood, and he was successful when Otabek’s arms wrapped around him and he was pushed down against the bed. Otabek’s familiar weight was pressed on top of him and a stubbled jaw rubbed against his neck, causing him to squirm and laugh beneath the alpha. “Get - off - me, knothead,” He managed out between bouts of laughter.

Otabek dragged his face up until he was making eye contact with Yuri, squinting down at him. “You’re really not going to kiss me?” He asked, lower lip jutting out in a pout that generally worked on the omega. However, his resolve was strong at the moment. “Nope,” Yuri replied, popping the ‘p,’ before he pushed Otabek’s face away and rolled out of bed.

“I’m going to shower, but you’re welcome to join me. _After_ you brush your teeth,” Yuri stated pointedly, before he was disappearing into the bathroom. It was one of the nicer parts of his bathroom, with a large glass shower directly across from the door that could probably fit four people if they tried hard enough. There was a toilet placed directly in front of it, vertically aligned with the tub and on the other side of the toilet there was a white marble sink with several drawers.

A shiver ran up the blonde’s spine as his feet met cool tile and he turned his head briefly to glance at the alpha watching him, before he lifted his shirt over his head. He sent a flirty wink in Otabek’s direction before he used his foot to kick the door shut a bit, just to tease the man further. He stripped down the rest of the way and stepped into the shower.

It only took the water a few seconds to heat up and soon he was basking in the warmth the water provided him. He wet his face and hair, pausing in the task to wash himself only when he heard the door squeak open, and watched as Otabek stepped in and set himself in front of the sink with a soft glare. Yuri smirked and grabbed for his shampoo, making quick work of washing his hair. He’d just rinsed it when he felt hands on him and he turned in Otabek’s embrace, looking up at the man.

Slim, pale fingers reached up to wipe a bit of toothpaste foam from the corner of Otabek’s pouted lips. He pressed up on his tiptoes to get a kiss from the alpha, but he came up short due to Otabek stretching his head away. “Otabek,” He whined, grasping at the other’s neck in an attempt to pull him down, but his height and build made him relatively weaker. “Kiss me, you fucker.”

“You didn’t brush your teeth,” Otabek mocked, voice taking on a higher pitch in an attempt to mimic Yuri’s voice. But, with a well-placed pout and a drawn out ‘please,’ Otabek tipped his head down and sucked Yuri’s lower lip into his mouth, hands holding tight to the blonde’s hips. The omega moaned into his mouth, hands gripping tight at the back of Otabek’s neck for purchase in the slippery shower.

His head tilted to the side as Otabek’s lips dragged down his neck, nipping and sucking as he went. When a tongue swiped over the gland behind his ear, he felt slick rush from him, his body arching as he keened loudly. “Asshole,” Yuri breathed, nails digging into the wet flesh on the back of Otabek’s neck, one of his legs lifting to hook around the other’s hips. His hips pressed forward to grind against Otabek, the friction of his partially hard cock on Otabek’s delicious in a way that was indescribably.

“Press your chest to the wall,” Otabek ordered as he pulled away, lips beautifully kiss bruised. Yuri quickly complied, more obedient now than he’d ever been in the rest of his life, arms folded so he could rest the side of his face on them, back arched and ass sticking out in a way that was fully meant to entice the alpha behind him. He stood for several moments without any touching, until suddenly there were hands pulling his cheeks apart, hot breath dusting over his slicked hole. “Otabek, what are you -.” He began, but was cut off by the wet pressure of a tongue swiping over him.

He cried out and nearly collapsed, his hands scrabbling at the tile wall for some sort of balance. His knees bowed inward for a moment, before there was a hand guiding his legs back apart. He turned his head, teeth digging into the flesh of his arm as Otabek rimmed him, tongue sweeping from his perineum, up to the top of the cleft in his cheeks. He could feel the slick that was leaking from him, swept up by the flat of Otabek’s tongue before it could drip down to his thighs.

A pleased growl sounded behind him and it rattled every bit of his biology, his inner omega preening at how well he was doing for this alpha, by pulling such noises from him. “Beka, Beka, _Beka_ ,” He chanted into his arm, his thighs trembling violently. One of Otabek’s arms wrapped around his thighs to support him, but the actions of his mouth never ceased, the absolutely obscene noises only making the experience more arousing.

Yuri moved one of his arms from where it rested down, so he could reach down and wrap a hand around his leaking and neglected cock, stroking himself just as soon as Otabek’s tongue pushed into him, stretching out the tight rim of muscle slightly. His knees buckled then and if it weren’t for the alpha’s arm, he would’ve collapse on the floor, but he was given enough time to recover and he forced himself back up, a moan raking its way from his throat. He was so close, embarrassingly so, seen as how they hadn’t been at this for more than ten minutes, but Otabek was gifted with his mouth and the noises coming from him weren’t helping.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard Yuri squeezed, or how fast he stroked, he was unable to _get there_ and he sobbed into his arm. His legs spread a bit more, desperate for something else, _anything_ else that would push him over the edge. “Need more, Beka. Please, please, please. Alpha, give me more,” He begged. The hand that wasn’t holding him up snaked around and pressed hard into the gland that rested on his inner right thigh. That was enough, the pleasure from that simple action pushing him over the edge. He cried out loudly as he spilled out over his own hand, cum landing on the dark shower tiles.

Yuri’s body convulsed when Otabek’s tongue ran over him one last time and then he felt the warm weight of the alpha against his back, lips pressing to the back of his neck. “Can I fuck your thighs?” A rough voice rasped in his ear and Yuri nodded, still working through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Otabek shifted his legs closer together and bent him forward a bit more and Yuri dully noticed the hard, thick length pressed between his thighs. He was far too spent to respond or aid in the build-up of Otabek’s orgasm, face pressed to the wall, his body jerking away when the other’s cock brushed against his own. Words of praise filtered through his dazed mind, filling him with warmth, leaning back into him heavily now. Soon, warmth streaked across his skin and a broken groan met his ears and he knew that Otabek had finished, his body jerking with the strength of it. Hot breath dusted his ear, Otabek’s heaving chest pressed to his back. They stood there for several long moments, catching their breath, until Otabek pulled him back into the spray and rinsed him off thoroughly, hushing him when he attempted to complain.

“Let me take care of you,” Otabek insisted, the sudden deep timbre of his voice causing Yuri to shiver and he gives in immediately, slumping forward into the alpha. He was soaped down and rinsed off, all while Otabek hummed as if he was pleased that he was able to take care of Yuri without the blonde complaining. When they were both clean again (and so was the shower) they stepped out and Yuri wrapped himself in the fluffiest towel he owned, handing a different one to Otabek who murmured that he had to shave.

Yuri exits the bathroom and towel-dries his body, before wrapping it up in his dripping hair. He sighs heavily upon remembering that he’d actually have to get dressed today, before digging through his closet and dresser in search of something appropriate to wear to his grandfather’s. After pulling on some underwear, he gets dressed in a pair of tight jeans, a t-shirt that was way too big for him (and belonged to Otabek), and he slipped on a hoodie after that. He somehow always found that he was cold, even during the summer months.

He watched Otabek as he flopped on the bed, head pillowed on his hands. His nerves started to wrack up by the second, until he was actively worrying about it.

♛♛♛

Yuri scowled as they approached his grandfather’s apartment complex, already able to hear Victor’s obnoxious shouting. He leaned further into Otabek, who had an arm around him and a hand wrapped around the bag full of dessert that he _insisted_ on bringing. Yuri had tried to convince the other that he didn’t need to, seen as how his grandfather was a baker, but Otabek had blabbed on about how he’d been raised and had won against the blonde in the end.

Once they were in front of the chipping red door, Yuri turned and kissed Otabek hard on the mouth, seen as how he likely wouldn’t be able to for the rest of the time they were there. “If you need a break, tell me, okay?” He requested, reaching up to brush some of the alpha’s hair back from his eyes. The Kazakh man nodded his head and turned his head to kiss Yuri’s palm, before the blonde strode forward and rapped on the door a few times.

Katsuki ended up answering the door, a slight blush on his face and a soft look in his burgundy eyes. “Hi Yurio!” He chirped in a voice that wasn’t typical for the shy alpha. Yuri’s verdant eyes narrowed at him and when he stepped closer he could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Victor get you started early?” He asked and that only seemed to increase the blush on his face. He stumbled over a denial, but soon stepped back and let the two of them in. Otabek greeted him quietly and followed Yuri in taking his shoes off, placing them neatly beside the couch, unlike Yuri’s who were settled in the middle of the floor.

“I’m here, old man,” Yuri shouted in his native tongue, sure that his grandpa couldn’t be far. It was a surprise that the elderly man wasn’t in the kitchen, cooking to his heart’s content. He glanced around and when his eyes landed on familiar silver hair, murder quickly made its way into his expression. He stalked over to the omega that was currently settled in his grandfather’s arm chair, humming softly with a cup of suspicious looking liquid in his hand, eyes closed. “I’m going to _kill_ you, Nikiforov,” Yuri growled, inches away from the man’s face.

Victor startled and leaned backwards, eyes widening once he realized who was in front of him. “Yurio, it was an accident,” The older man attempted to reason, placing a hand on the blonde’s shoulder. “But isn’t it great, we’re all here now and your _dedushka_ can meet your boyfriend!”

A sharp yelp rang out as Yuri got a hand in Victor’s hair, threatening to ‘rip what was left of it out’ if Victor spilled anything else that was supposed to be private. Otabek and Yuuri stared on, unsure how to respond to the situation, but soon two large arms were pulling him off and a scolding voice boomed out.

“Yuri Plisetsky,” His grandfather barked, turning him around in an effort to make Yuri look down at him. “We don’t treat _guests_ like that in this home.”

“He’s hardly a _guest_ , grandpa and he’s got a big mouth. Maybe losing his hair would shut him u-.” Yuri retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, but he was quickly cut off by a pointed glare from Nikolai.

“Stop misbehaving and plant your ass on the couch, while I meet your boyfriend,” Nikolai ordered, eyes narrowed and meeting the challenge his grandson was posing. The blonde was quick to give up, because he respected his grandfather, and he walked over to the couch and flopped down on it, sulking. He grumbled colorful curses under his breath until his grandfather looked back at him, effectively silencing him with the sharpness in his eyes.

“Now,” His grandfather began, wiping his hands on the navy blue material of his apron. He approached the man hovering by the door and Yuri turned in his seat to watch, still sulking. Yuuri walked over to his dramatic fiance, who was currently wailing about hair loss and mean sons. The Japanese man pet his head until the omega was purring into him. Yuri rolled his eyes at them and looked back at Otabek, who was currently shaking his grandfather’s hand. “I’m unsure how such a polite man like you ended up with my _brat_ of a grandson, but I’m very pleased to meet you.”

Yuri scoffed loudly and Otabek glanced at him, a small smirk on his face. “He has better days,” Otabek replied, tone teasing, before he returned the sentiment that his grandfather had said. The alpha is quickly dragged into the kitchen by Nikolai and Yuri turns back around, knowing very well what’s going on. His grandfather has a habit of making new guests cook and had done the same thing with Victor and Yuuri the first time they’d been over.

Yuri grabs for Victor’s glass quickly and downs whatever it is, cringing at it, but asking for more a moment later. He figures he’s got an excuse to drink a little bit, considering the awkwardness of the situation and the fact that he hasn’t since the night before Otabek had become his boyfriend. The night passes in a slow lull, Yuri drinking a bit more until he’s reasonably buzzed, talking with Yuuri and Victor as much as he can stand to, until they start making out and then he’s engrossed in his cellphone. He scrolls through various social media platforms, liking and commenting on a few pictures of those that are closer to him. And JJ, who’s getting married in a little over two weeks and expects Yuri to attend. Which he won’t be.

He’s startled out of his stupor several minutes later, due to two strong arms wrapping around his neck. His nose wrinkled up at the smell that was coming off of his normally nice smelling alpha, turning his head slightly to look at him. “You smell like onions,” He comments and Otabek laughs, warm and quietly against his neck. “Are you having fun cooking?” He asks a moment later and the Kazakh man nods his head.

“Cut my finger up a little bit, though,” Otabek states and Yuri turns quickly, taking his hands and looking for the cheap band-aid he knows will be covering the wound. When he finds it he scowls and shouts, “Stop hurting my boyfriend,” mostly because of the alcohol. It was just a tiny cut, anyway. Otabek snorts at him and Yuri pouts, not used to not being on the receiving end of the alpha’s attention constantly. A kiss is dropped to his pouted lips and then Otabek has disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving Yuri to his own devices again.

Somehow, he and the two idiots end up finding a deck of cards, playing various games that they’re likely not doing right, making up rules as they go, that somehow end up with both Yuri and Victor without a shirt. The blonde shouts frequently and Yuuri is sitting in the corner giggling, the buzz loosening the generally uptight Japanese man up. Yuri flopped onto his back and yelled triumphantly as he somehow won, fists pumping in the air. Yuuri was now comforting a pouting Victor, who’s being dramatic again, but Yuri doesn’t give two shits, because he won.

His eyes slip closed until a shadow looms over him and then he peeks an eye open, a grin making its way onto his lips as his eyes meet those of a darker caliber. He pushed himself up and his arms wrapped quickly around Otabek’s broad neck, pulling himself up until he could wrap his legs around the alpha’s waist. “I missed you,” Yuri sang in the other man’s ear, a soft laugh rattling both of them.

“Where’s your shirt?” Otabek questioned, glancing around. Yuri stopped him in his search, however, cupping both of his hands over those warm, tan cheeks and pulling him in for an extremely distracting kiss. The scent of a content omega filled the room, sickly sweet and a bit tangy as Yuri’s scent always was. Once he pulled away, he pressed his nose to Otabek’s scent gland, breathing in heavily, before he was prompted to pull away by the man himself. “How much have you had to drink?” Otabek asked, amusement laced into his tone.

“Barely anything,” Yuri answered immediately, rolling his eyes, though the blush on his pale face was a tell-tale sign of his slight inebriation. “I wish _you_ were a drink. I’d down you in a second,” Yuri laughed, butting his nose against Otabek’s, leaning into him further. He could feel the heat on the alpha’s face and purred at the fact that he was capable of causing such a strong reaction with only a few words.

“The foods done,” Nikolai shouted, Russian accent thick and Yuri peeked over Otabek’s shoulder to look at him. His nose wrinkled up at his grandfather and the man simply snorted at him, before turning around and getting out glass plates. Otabek’s hand ran over his back and then he was being set down and dragged into the kitchen to eat. The Kazakh man seemed incredibly excited about dishing out the stroganoff he’d made, giving everyone a healthy amount despite protests that they’d never be able to finish such a large portion. Nikolai stood to the side, looking amused, and took his plate without complaint, before making his way into the living room to sit in his chair.

The rest of them gathered on his grandfather’s couch, Victor paying more attention to Yuuri than he was to his food, despite the shy alpha’s protests and quiet scoldings. Yuri dug into his food, never one to refuse any food, no matter what it was or who had prepared it. He moaned happily and pressed his face into Otabek’s neck, murmuring praise that brought the flush back to the male’s face. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to Yuri’s temple, before turning back to his own food.

They ate mostly in silence, his grandfather turning on his rickety old television and flipping to some old, Russian soap opera that Yuri assumed his grandmother had watched. It wasn’t the type of thing he’d ever think his _dedushka_ would be interested in, but the older man was full of surprises.

The night dissolved into a sleepy evening, Yuuri excusing himself and Victor and thanking them all for the food. Otabek disappeared into the kitchen and by the tell-tale signs of dishes clinking together, he figured out rather quickly that he was cleaning up. The blonde glanced over at his grandfather, raising his eyebrows, and when his grandfather paused and nodded his head, a bright smile took over Yuri’s lips. His grandfather approved. He’s unsure what he would’ve done if it hadn’t turned out this way, but he’s happy he no longer has to think about it.

When Otabek returns he’s dozing, his buzz now making him drowsy, and he faintly hears the alpha thanking his grandfather for the evening and promising to do it again soon, before hands are grabbing at him and urging him up. Yuri complained, but grabbed for his shirt and hoodie, slipping both over his head. He toed on his shoes and walked over to kiss his grandpa on the cheek, murmuring a goodbye, before he followed Otabek out the door, hand quickly finding the Kazakh’s.

The walk home was quiet and a bit chilly, but with the warm presence of Otabek beside him, he found he wasn’t too affected by the cold. “He likes you,” Yuri informed the other, pressing hard into the other in an attempt to absorb more of his warmth. Otabek glanced at him and smiled slightly, his hand tightening in Yuri’s. “I’m glad,” The taller man finally said, just before they arrived back at Yuri’s apartment.

Yuri kicked off his shoes and reached down to scratch behind Sveta’s ear. Anzu and Vlasi came running over for attention and he gave them a bit of attention, before he was walking back to his bedroom, dragging Otabek along with him. He settled himself on the end of the bed and without speaking, lifted his leg up and off the floor.

Otabek snorted at him and kneeled down in front of the blonde, peeling off his socks and tossing them to the side. They both wrestled with Yuri’s pants until they were off and Yuri collapsed backwards onto the bed, eyes slipping closed. The bed shifted and lips pressed lightly across his face, making him hum in contentment. “You’re such a good alpha,” Yuri murmured in praise, eyes slipping open when Otabek’s affections halted.

The ravenette drew back a bit and Yuri panicked briefly, ready to apologize, but then Otabek was dipping down and murmuring, “only for you,” before he pressed a soft kiss to Yuri’s lips. After a moment the blonde pushed Otabek off of him and shifted up towards the top of the bed, crawling beneath the blankets that now smell of Otabek more than anything else.

He watched as Otabek changed and disappeared into the bathroom for a few moments, before he was back and crawling into the bed beside Yuri, kissing him and bidding him goodnight. Yuri’s asleep before Otabek even settles down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> resources:  
> [tumblr here](https://mxkell.tumblr.com)  
> [character outlines](https://docs.google.com/document/d/11kXlQpRv1fUudGGw7ooIDHuPdMRms0iaKR88vF06Vuw/edit?usp=sharing)  
> [a/b/o information](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ninZ4kfUBiIbB3XjHJFiM6MZw4Cql2ES4RLyq--IhQc/edit?usp=sharing)  
> [pinterest boards](https://www.pinterest.com/makellrose/)
> 
> comments, kudos, and bookmarks fuel my smol self!
> 
> up next: a filler chapter with some smut and a small hint at future chapters


	6. VI.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was safe to say that he was excited about reuniting with his boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter~ it's pretty short because it's mostly filler but !!! i hope you enjoy anyway.

Yuri was currently getting antsy, dancing around in the center aisle of the plane as passengers slowly grabbed their luggage and began to file out. He could hear Lilia’s scolding, but wasn’t absorbing any of what she was saying, his excitement far too great to pay any mind to her.

He’d been away at qualifiers for one of the largest dancing competitions in the world for a week and found himself missing Otabek more every minute they were away from one another. They’d been dating for nearly seven months and during that time it was odd to not have the quiet alpha at his side. They spent as many nights together as possible, since Otabek’s schedule was still absolutely fucked, and there was rarely a day where they didn’t see each other for at least a few minutes. It was nice, something Yuri had been loathed to admit when Victor had prodded at him teasingly.

It was safe to say that he was excited about reuniting with his boyfriend, who would be waiting outside of the airport to pick him up. Lilia had transportation of her own, she had told Yuri, but he couldn’t remember what it was and wasn’t too worried about it. It was Lilia, after all.

The moment he was off the plane, he bolted towards the exit where he knew Otabek would be waiting, dragging his suitcase behind him. He made his way through the crowd of people who had been exiting the plane as well, not even patient enough to wait to get to the top of the escalator before he was climbing the steps quicker, ready to get off and see his boyfriend.

The baggage claim section was full of people finding each other and their luggage, all kinds of scents filling Yuri’s nose. His nose wrinkled at the plethora of pheromones that he was being hit with, until a familiar and overwhelming smell caught his attention and his head turned to the side, green eyes almost immediately meeting brown. A smile graced his lips and he bolted towards Otabek, his suitcase jerking around as he ran. He dropped it and flung himself into the alpha’s arms, immediately burying his nose in the gland that was releasing a pleasant, rich scent.

The blonde pulled back a bit, his hands shifting to cup the back of Otabek’s neck, before he pulled him down into a soft, sensual kiss that he hoped showcased just how much he had missed the man. He only pulled away once he needed to breathe, but he stayed close, his nose pressed to Otabek’s. “Hi, Beka,” He murmured, fingers scratching at the short hairs at the base of his neck that must’ve been newly shaved. When they’d Skyped the previous night, his hair had been a bit shaggy.

“Yura,” Otabek replied, his voice a soft and adoration-filled rumble. “Congratulations on taking first in your competitions. Victor made me watch it over with him and Yuuri.” Lips met his again and Yuri all but melted, arms wrapping tightly around Otabek’s broad neck. “C’mon, baby, let’s get you home.”

♛♛♛

The moment Yuri entered his apartment, he fell to the floor and let his cats wind around him, hands reaching out to scratch them and face leaning down to kiss at their heads and ask them questions that they would have no way of answering. Otabek dragged his suitcase to his room after taking his shoes off, letting the blonde reunite with his cats.

Finally, Yuri stood and the cats followed after him, meowing loudly in an attempt to get his attention. The blonde shut the bedroom door before they could get in, turning to face Otabek who was sat on the bed, leaning down to peel off his socks. He sauntered over and quickly pushed Otabek back onto the bed, covering the alpha’s much larger body with his own. Yuri kissed Otabek hard, pressing his face into the alpha’s neck to inhale more of his scent.

“I missed you,” He murmured against warm flesh. He knew he didn’t have to say it, it went unspoken in his actions, but he felt more secure when he _knew_ that Otabek knew. “It smells like you in here. Did you stay here most of the time?”

“I had to keep your cats company,” Otabek replied, hands rubbing down the curve of Yuri’s back. “And it smells more like you here than at my place,” He added after a moment, cheeks stained red. Yuri smirked down at him, amused by the sheepishness his boyfriend still displayed.

Yuri regarded him for few moments, sitting up and shifting back a bit so he was straddling Otabek’s hips. His hands wrapped themselves up in the other male’s, admiring Otabek’s tan skin against his for a minute, before he glanced up to look into his face. “Beka, I’m _really_ horny,” He stated, as if it was something that was completely appropriate, a casual topic of conversation.

Otabek sputtered beneath him, his blush only increasing in intensity, his body squirming beneath Yuri’s. “You got off on the phone with me almost every night, Yura,” He reasoned. Yuri _knew_ that Otabek was already getting hard from his place in his lap and his lower lip jutted out in a pout, while his hips grinded down, completely dismissing the innocent look on his face. “ _Yuri_ ,” Otabek groaned, tipping his head back against the bed.

“You missed me, didn’t you, Beka?” Yuri asked, voice just barely above a whisper. The moment the words left him, he was being flipped over onto his back, Otabek hovering over him, lips crashing into his at full force. A tongue tangled with his and teeth clashed slightly as a hand pushed up under his shirt, cupping his ribs in a way that was far different than how he was being kissed.

“Off,” Otabek grunted and with practiced ease they got off Yuri’s shirt, exposing milky skin and pert, pink nipples. Yuri’s hands gripped hard at the man’s broad shoulders as his lips ran down his neck, biting harshly in a few places. The blonde gasped, sure that there would be marks there, and his hole pulsed as some slick leaked from him. The act of his alpha marking him had him submitting easily, back arching up when Otabek shifted down to get one of Yuri’s nipples into his mouth. Yuri whimpered when teeth grazed over the sensitive flesh, before the other male switched to the opposite one, giving it the same attention he’d given the first.

Yuri’s nails raked at the warm skin of Otabek’s shoulders, undoubtedly leaving red scratches behind. Otabek’s mouth dragged lower until he was biting just above the waistband of Yuri’s leggings. His hips lifted up off the bed and he tossed his head back, groaning in frustration when Otabek pushed his hips back down and held them to the bed with his arm. The alpha continued to bite and suck at his hip bones and lower abdomen, until Yuri was practically sobbing for him to give him some sort of relief.

Yuri’s erection was evident through his leggings, straining almost painfully against the fabric, and the blonde’s hips rocked upwards as soon as Otabek released him. “Lift your hips,” The Kazakh man murmured and Yuri complied immediately, a breathless noise leaving him as the fabric rubbed against him. The black bottoms were tossed away from the bed and his briefs quickly followed, leaving him completely bare on the bed.

“Do you want my mouth or my fingers?” Otabek asked, glancing up at him, pupils blown wide and irises dark with desire. Yuri took a moment to cherish this sight, the one he hadn’t seen in a _week_ , wanting to reach his hand down and card his fingers through the disheveled locks atop the alpha’s head. He pondered the question for a moment, before deciding.

“Stretch me open, please. I want you to fuck me with your cock,” He replied, feeling smug when Otabek seemed to lose his ability to breath for a moment, but the feeling was wiped away as the other flipped him over onto his stomach. His hips and ass were lifted from the bed a moment later, his shoulders and face still pressed down. They’d never done a position like this and he feels like he’s at the mercy of Otabek, like the man could do anything and he wouldn’t be able to resist. Of course, there was absolutely nothing Otabek could or would do that he wouldn’t check with Yuri first, but the feeling remained.

The familiar snap of a plastic bottle being opened causes Yuri to twist a bit, looking back and watching as Otabek coated his fingers in the jelly, letting it warm a bit on his fingers, before he shifted closer. While Yuri was already a bit wet due to the slick, it wasn’t near enough for him to be comfortable while he was being stretched open.

The blonde bit down on his lower lip, nodding his head when Otabek looked up at him, asking permission with the slight crease in his brow, before he proceeded. The Kazakh man started off with two fingers, seen as how his body was made for this and he’d already loosened up, making it far easier than if it might’ve been with someone who wasn’t an omega.

Otabek’s skill with his fingers soon had Yuri squirming against the duvet, precum leaking from the head of his cock, unable to form coherent thoughts, much less sentences. A third finger was added quickly and when Otabek curled them, fingers massaged against his prostate, causing Yuri’s hips to rock forward against the mattress. Fingers curled into the meat of his ass, nails digging in, and his own fingers wrapped up in the blankets, pulling when Otabek’s fingers thrusted into him particularly hard.

The alpha hit his prostate over and over again, a new wave of slick dripping from him, making Otabek groan from behind him. Yuri was sure that the other wanted to get his mouth on the ‘delicious’ liquid that was spilling from his body, but Otabek was nothing if not patient and capable of self-restraint. Finally, Yuri was unsure if he was going to be able to take it anymore, getting closer and closer to the edge with each press of fingers against that spot inside of him.

“Beka, Beka, I’m gonna come, stop. Want you in me, please, please,” Yuri rambled, voice a strained whine. Otabek’s fingers left him as quickly as he asked and the blonde heard the metallic noise of Otabek’s zipper being dragged down. He turned his head to watch and took notice of the way his boyfriend was worrying at his lower lip, glancing at Yuri every few moments. “Beka? What’s wrong?” He inquired, worried immediately.

“Um, I,” The larger man began, pausing in the removal of his pants. “I know I flipped you over, but I like looking at your face. Could you turn back over?” Otabek’s cheeks were completely crimson and Yuri laughed at him, quickly rolling over onto his back, grabbing for Otabek’s neck to pull him down for a kiss.

“You’re an idiot,” The blonde murmured against his lips, though his tone was fond and playful. The alpha grumbled, a pout heavy on his lips, but then Yuri was urging him to get undressed, his body still craving touch. Otabek pulled away and removed his pants, kicking off his boxers and removing his shirt immediately after before he leaned himself over Yuri. The omega watched as Otabek slicked himself up, eyes running over the faded marks at the base of Otabek’s cock, displaying where his knot was located. That brought up the thought of Yuri’s heat and he chewed at the inside of his lip, becoming more aroused at the thought of being tied to the other.

Arms wrapped around broad shoulders and lips met his as pressure was applied to the slicked up ring of muscle between his cheeks. Yuri’s mouth fell open and his legs hooked up around Otabek’s waist, his head tossing back as Otabek pushed further into him. A tongue found the gland behind his ear and he jerked slightly, his sickly sweet scent becoming thicker and stronger in the room that was alight with shared pheromones. Otabek remained still once he was fully seated inside, afraid to hurt the blonde, but when Yuri’s hips rolled downwards, causing him to groan, he knew that he could move.

The rhythm was slow, but forceful, at first. Otabek pulled back almost completely, before thrusting back in hard, his mouth still hovering over Yuri’s scent gland. Each thrust pressed hard against the omega’s prostate, causing him to arch up against Otabek, moaning and whimpering in pleasure. ‘Beka’ became the only coherent word that Yuri was capable of uttering, chanting it over and over like this all would stop if he didn’t.

Yuri was steadily being worked towards an orgasm, his mouth pressed against Otabek’s shoulder, muffling the noises he was currently making. “Faster, faster,” He panted out and Otabek somehow heard him over the sounds they were making, his hips snapping forward hard the next second. Yuri cried out loudly, his arms and legs tightening around Otabek’s muscular body, his teeth digging into the flesh above his collarbone.

Yuri tossed his head back against the bed as Otabek brutally slammed into his prostate over and over. “I want to come, fuck, _Beka_ ,” Yuri pleaded, curls toeing from where they were on Otabek’s back. The alpha’s teeth lightly dug into his scent gland, hand snaking down to wrap around Yuri’s cock, but before he could reach it Yuri was arching further into his boyfriend, a particularly hard thrust unravelling him quickly. His stomach was now coated with his cum, some hitting Otabek’s abdomen and sticking there.

He spasmed though his orgasm, his body tensing and relaxing, which directly lead to Otabek’s orgasm. He sat back on his knees and in doing so pulled out of Yuri, hand wrapping around himself to get him there completely. Yuri watched as Otabek tossed his head back, a rattled groan leaving his mouth, head dropping back as he came over Yuri’s stomach. “Fuck,” Otabek cursed, voice wavering slightly as he stroked himself a few more times.

Yuri’s eyes slip closed as he tried to regain his breath, listening as Otabek did the same. The bed shifted and his eyes slipped open to watch as the alpha got up from his bed, walking into the bathroom. He came back with a wet cloth and made quick work of wiping Yuri off, despite his murmured protests. The blonde sat up on the bed and stretched his arms up over his head, limbs still quivering from the strength of his orgasm.

Otabek climbed in next to him and laid down, slipping beneath the blankets and watch Yuri as he stretched the ache from his muscles. The blonde turned his head and smirked at Otabek, curling his toes and listening as they popped. “You’re going to be good during my heat,” He hummed, sated with his orgasm and now in a sleepy state. When the silence carried on for too long, he turned and when he caught sight of Otabek’s face, a frown took over his own.

“Beka? Why do you look like someone just drop kicked your dog?” He questioned, quickly becoming worried. Otabek stared at him for a few more moments, eyebrows pinched together, hand wrapped around the comforter.

“I’m going to be there during your heat?” Otabek inquired and Yuri rolled his eyes. They’d been together for more than half a year and the Russian’s heat was in a little over two weeks. While he’d never brought it up to the man, he figured that since they were together it was something they’d end up doing together when the time came. “Well, yeah. Who’d you think I was gonna spend it with?” He snorted, shaking his head.

“That’s something you tend to talk about with your partner, Yuri. It’s not something I’d want to dive into without any knowledge. That’s some serious trust you’re putting in me and I need to be sure I can take care of you,” Otabek replied, sounding a bit irritated. Yuri paused, unsure why the male was agitated. He had a habit of charging ahead of things without mentioning them to the people they involved, though he didn’t think that Otabek would’ve minded this much.

“I figured we’d -.”

“I know you figured, Yuri, but this isn’t something I can _do_ spontaneously. You need to _talk_ to me,” Otabek cut him off, trying to stress his point further. Yuri watched him for a few moments, chewing on the inside of his lip, attempting how to respond. Finally, he crawled forward and kneeled beside Otabek, looking at him with a regretful look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I was gonna talk to you about it, I swear. I’m new to… this. I still don’t know what to do when it comes to stuff like this,” Yuri murmured, raising a hand to his mouth to pick at the skin on his lips. He was stopped immediately, however, by Otabek’s large hand wrapped around his wrist. He met Otabek’s gaze and fell into him immediately, burying his face in Otabek’s neck. “‘M sorry,” He whispered again.

A sigh left Otabek’s lips and an arm wrapped around Yuri, holding him close. “I just need to know. For your sake. I need to know how to take care of you. I don’t know anything about heats, except for what we learned in grade school, and that was years ago,” Otabek explained, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Okay,” Yuri responded and cuddled further into the other. “I’ll help teach you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> resources:  
> [tumblr here](https://mxkell.tumblr.com)  
> [character outlines](https://docs.google.com/document/d/11kXlQpRv1fUudGGw7ooIDHuPdMRms0iaKR88vF06Vuw/edit?usp=sharing)  
> [a/b/o information](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ninZ4kfUBiIbB3XjHJFiM6MZw4Cql2ES4RLyq--IhQc/edit?usp=sharing)  
> [pinterest boards](https://www.pinterest.com/makellrose/)
> 
> comments, kudos, and bookmarks fuel my smol self!
> 
> up next: otabek's POV and preparing for yuri's heat


	7. VII.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the days grew closer to Yuri’s heat, Otabek found himself getting more and more nervous.

As the days grew closer to Yuri’s heat, Otabek found himself getting more and more nervous. While the blonde assured him that it would be fine and it really wasn’t something major to stress over, the Kazakh man couldn’t help but worry that he would _somehow_ mess it all up.

He’d been meeting with Yuuri Katsuki for breakfast every now and then and the Japanese man gave him pointers, helpful advice, seen as how he dealt with Victor’s heats every other month. Otabek isn’t sure he’d be capable of dealing with that, just the thought of two heats a year has him anxious. He’s sitting with Katsuki now and his fear must bleed into his scent, because the slighter man looks up from his menu and quirks an eyebrow, concern quickly etching its way into the other alpha’s features.

“You know,” He began and Otabek’s gaze snapped upwards, meeting burgundy eyes. “They make it sound all daunting in school when they teach you the basics, but your instincts pick up fairly quickly when it comes to what your partner wants or needs,” Yuuri stated, as some form of reassurance, pausing to think over what he wanted to say next. “It might be better if you convince Yuri to get a heat hotel room. That way, you won’t have to worry about having enough resources to keep his energy up. And it’s a safer location than an apartment. Could ease some of the tension you’re feeling.”

Otabek’s lips puckered in thought, before he nodded his head. He knew that Yuri was accustomed to spending his heats locked away in his apartment, scent blockers filling his home to keep aggressive and/or curious alphas away. However, the thought of an intruder breaking in to subdue _his_ Yuri  — _his_ omega — made Otabek sick to his stomach and he was unsure whether he’d be able to perform under that kind of pressure. It was a good suggestion, one he would be sure to bring up to the blonde.

He did so that night, when Yuri was picking through a pile of his belongings in the living room, bringing various items to his nose. Otabek watched with interest as the omega decided what he did and did not want in his nest, throwing each object into one of two piles. The Kazakh man was unsure what separated some of them from the others - they all smelled the same to him - but Yuri seemed to know what he wanted and the act was oddly soothing to watch. It’s likely why he chose to bring it up.

“Yura,” He began and the blonde hummed in acknowledgement, but was too focused on his current task to really pay attention to Otabek. The older male scoffed and slipped down onto the floor, crawling to the preoccupied omega until he was able to rest his head on the other man’s thigh. He dropped a kiss to the flesh exposed due to Yuri’s choice of tiny gym shorts and smirked when his boyfriend shivered, shooting a glare at him before returning to his task.

“I think we should get a room at a heat hotel,” Otabek continued, rolling over onto his back so he could gaze up at Yuri, gauge his reaction. He froze and Otabek noticed immediately, gnawing at the inside of his lower lip, worried that this might be some sort of sore subject. The tension slowly eased out of Yuri’s lithe form, however, and he set some the items he’d been examining down, placing a hand in Otabek’s hair to ease away any snarls. Otabek leaned gratefully into the touch, anxiety still swirling around in his gut.

“Why?” Yuri questioned and Otabek pushed himself up, so he could gaze evenly into Yuri’s verdant eyes.

“To keep you safe and healthy,” He stated simply and reached a hand up to tuck some blonde hair behind Yuri’s ear. “I was talking to Katsuki earlier and he told me about them. He said that the heats he spent with Victor there were the easiest,” He paused upon seeing Yuri’s disgusted face, but laughed when he realized it’s because he was talking about ‘the geezers’ having sex. “And I’ve never done this and want to provide for you the best I can.”

A purr rolled from Yuri’s throat, a cat-like sound that was only drawn out of pleased omegas, and Otabek practically preened upon hearing the noise, resisting the urge to kiss it from his partner’s mouth. Fingers held his jaw and drew him in, pale lips pressed to his within the span of a moment. “Okay,” Yuri muttered against his mouth.

Otabek hummed in approval and kissed him harder, quickly pressing him down into the pile of items he’d chosen to make his nest with. “We should practice for my heat, because practice makes perfect,” Yuri stated matter-of-factly, a cute tone to his voice that had Otabek chuckling.

“Anything you want,” He responded and then his mouth was back on Yuri’s.

 

♛♛♛

 

They’d been out for only thirty-minutes and already, Otabek was yearning to be home.

While his anxiety often caused him to feel like this, it was nowhere near this bad normally and he wasn’t sure he liked it. He knew that it was likely due to the prowling stage of his rut, which Yuri had noticed before he had. He’d been incredibly touchy and aggressive towards individuals that approached the omega in the past two days, without realizing it until the blonde had coaxed him out of it.

Now, he had Yuri pressed tightly to his side and shot glares at any Alpha that looked twice, his pheromones likely stinking up the place more and more as the minutes droned on. Katsuki had placed himself and Victor purposefully further ahead as they walked, though due to the fact that they were a bonded pair, Otabek didn’t react negatively to them much. He still appreciated the gesture, however.

“Stop growling. You’re not a dog and I’m not a bone,” Yuri hissed up at him. He glanced down at the blonde and murmured an apology, but his arm only tightened around Yuri’s shoulders. He could tell that, despite Yuri’s menacing tone, he was pleased with how his alpha was reacting, his own arm tightening around Otabek whenever he got protective. “You’d better behave during dinner,” Yuri warned and Otabek scoffed at him, a scowl taking over his features.

Generally, it was Otabek who was warning Yuri to behave, due to the omega’s difficult ways and defiant personality. He didn’t like the tables being turned much. His response was little more than a cluster of unintelligible grumbles.

Victor was soon announcing that they were there, the familiar exterior of the hibachi grill comforting in a way. Otabek pulled away from Yuri, having at least enough decency to not be practically fondling the male in a family-friendly restaurant, but stood close behind him, the blonde’s hand holding his. Victor rapidly and excitedly told them of their reservation and soon they were making their way there, spotting the friends that they’d come to meet with ease.

Otabek sat himself down on the outside, Yuri next to him, and quickly lulled himself into the conversation. He was hyper-aware of the hand on his thigh, thumb tracing soothing circles into his skin beneath the fabric of his jeans. While Otabek had grown aggressive, Yuri had gotten clingier and clingier, unable to be without the alpha for more than a few hours at a time. It’d gotten to the point where Lilia had told him not to bother showing up for practice, because he’d just sat on the floor whining. It was something Yuri had hated to admit.

It took very little time for them to be able to order and soon, most of the people at the table were enraptured by the man cooking in front of them. Otabek’s attention was on Yuri, who was watching the flames with a mischief that belonged to a teenager, not an adult. He chuckled lowly to himself and turned to watch the show himself, not quite as impressed as Victor, who was clapping frequently and squealing in awe.

He felt Yuri’s hand leave his leg and he looked up, watching as the blonde rose from his seat. “Bathroom,” Yuri stated, jutting his finger in the direction of the restrooms. Otabek nodded and went to get to his feet, instinct telling him to go with the omega, but Yuri pressed his hand to Otabek’s shoulder with a scolding look on his face. “You’re not going to the bathroom with me. _Stay_ ,” He ordered and Otabek growled playfully at him, watching until Yuri disappeared behind the wooden door.

Otabek attempted to calm himself, but was unable, even with Phichit talking in his ear in an attempt to distract him. He was polite, however, and looked at the pictures of the Thai skater’s hamster and the kitten he’d just gotten. The male next to him, Seung-gil, the bartender from the club, scoffed at the mention and Phichit quickly turned back to him, smothering the omega in a crushing hug. “You’ll learn to love him. Stop being such a grump,” The beta cooed, causing Seung-gil to only scowl harder.

Otabek’s attention remained on the exchange until Yuri’s familiar scent flooded his senses and he quickly turned in his seat, all but purring like a pleased feline when the blonde took his seat beside the alpha. “You’re so gross,” Yuri grumbled when he caught Otabek’s gaze on him, the palm of his hand pressing to the Kazakh man’s cheek to get those charcoal eyes off of him. “Stop looking at me and eat your food.”

He turned his head to see that his food was, in fact, done, something he must’ve missed while he was busy moping due to the absence of the omega. He did as he was told and turned in his seat, though that didn’t stop the thrill that he felt the moment that Yuri’s hand found its way back onto his leg, squeezing lightly as they both began eating.

Otabek continued to relax as the evening wore on, head resting on his palm as the others talked, most having finished their meals within no time at all. Due to the reservation, they were able to take up the space until they decided to leave, whether they were finished or not. It was one of the perks, Yuri had said, of being friends with an extravagant spender like Victor; both Yuri and Otabek knew, however, that the blonde was fond of the platinum-haired omega for far more reasons than that.

As the moments drew longer, slower, Otabek found his need for being closer to Yuri growing until it was unable to be ignored. He placed his foot behind one of the legs of the chair and shifted it closer to himself, simply humming in acknowledgement when Yuri shot him a glare, before turning back to Chris who he was, surprisingly, holding a civilized conversation with. The alpha felt a slight sting of rejection, but brushed it off and leaned forward, pressing his face into the crook of Yuri’s neck, nose pressed directly over the omega’s scent glands.

He felt when Yuri’s pulse quickened and smirked, shifting his face just slightly so he could press a kiss to the slight lump beneath the male’s flesh. The other didn’t turn to look at him, ignoring him and continuing to talk to Chris, who was eyeballing Otabek with a knowing glint in his eyes. He only pressed in further at the attention, ignoring Chris’ secondary gender due to his instincts telling him to make it known what was his.

Otabek stayed pressed into Yuri until they were all rising from the seats. They’d apparently paid and now were in search of something to satisfy their thirst for adventure. The blonde pushed his face away, but slipped his hand into Otabek’s a moment later, causing the alpha to hum in pleasure. They trailed behind the group, the others shooting them looks every now and then, causing Yuri to scoff at them, his pale cheeks growing red. When Otabek opened his mouth to comment about it, the omega was quick to tell him it was only the cold. The Kazakh man knew better.

Otabek’s anxiety skyrocketed as Victor lead them to a club entrance, one that was brightly lit and crowded. His hand tightened around Yuri’s and he glanced at the other, tongue running over his lips. The blonde seemed unfazed and almost stared at the people in line that they were passing as if he were _bored_ , making Otabek feel incredibly out of place for not wanting to be there. His inexperience with his own ruts didn’t help his comfortability, making him feel as if he shouldn’t be the one caring for this omega, especially not during his heat. He didn’t say anything, however, and simply settled for gnawing at his fingernails as they roamed through the bustling building for a spot to settle and put their things.

The Kazakh male slipped into the booth of the table they’d found, tucked away in the back, away from most of the activity going on. He kept biting at the remnants of his fingernails until a hand wrapped around his wrist, drawing his hand from his mouth, his charcoal eyes meeting verdant ones. Pale pink lips pressed lightly to his knuckles, before a nose pressed itself against the scent gland tucked away beneath the flesh just below his palm.

A shaky breath left Otabek’s lips as Yuri’s tongue darted out to just barely graze at the gland, the alpha responding immediately to the stimulation. “Relax,” The omega whispered, hand moving to cup the back of Otabek’s neck, fingers scratching at the short hairs at the base of his neck. “Just like any other night. So, kiss me and I’ll go get us some drinks.”

Otabek didn’t have to be asked twice and pressed upward until his slightly chapped lips found Yuri’s, the two quickly molding together in a soft kiss. It was over far sooner than the alpha would’ve liked and he grunted to make that known when the Russian pulled away, but Yuri’s response was to only send a cute little wink over his shoulder as he walked himself over to the bar.

He distracted himself by talking to Seung-gil, who he was familiar with due to the fact that they were co-workers, and while the male had a seemingly distant and cold attitude, he made rather good conversation. They’d discussed work for a few minutes, before it somehow morphed into the topic of pets and he was being shown picture after picture of the bartender’s husky, something he didn’t mind in the slightest. His attention only switched over when Phichit rejoined them, arms wrapping tightly around the Korean’s head, and Yuri slid in next to him, passing a drink to him.

Otabek looked at it for a few moments, trying to decide what it was, but then he was turning into the blonde, pulling his long, lanky legs over his lap. Yuri’s arm wrapped around his shoulders and Otabek responded gleefully to the attention, leaning further into his boyfriend even as his attention was no longer on him. The omega’s hand rubbed at his shoulder, Otabek’s own hands wrapped around Yuri’s long legs.

He figured the night wouldn’t be so bad if this was how he was spending it.

 

♛♛♛

 

It was nearing two AM and Otabek was relatively tired, his cheek pressed to the palm of his hand, his eyes locked onto Yuri as he swayed on the edge of the dancefloor. They’d both had quite a bit to drink, and so had their friends, and the alcohol was mostly making him sleepy. His mouth opened in a large yawn, his eyes shutting only for a moment, and when he reopened them he once again wished that they hadn’t gone out that night.

There was a large male, definitely much larger than Otabek and there was no doubt that he was also an alpha, grabbing Yuri’s hand and bringing him close. The blonde’s reflexes were clearly slowed down due to the buzz in his system, seen as how he didn’t immediately shove the stranger off, instead turning to see who it was before a scowl took over his features.

Otabek only watched for a second more, before he was pushing himself up and out of his seat, approaching the situation. He heard Yuri’s aggravated protests as the guy kept trying to pull him closer, heard the stranger’s comments on the sweet smell of omega. It was enough to fill the normally docile man with rage, his pace quickening. When Yuri cried out, the other alpha’s hand grasping at his boyfriend’s ass, any semblance of an idea of solving this peacefully went out the window.

When Otabek was young, his mother had insisted he take self-defense classes. While Almaty wasn’t dangerous, per se, it wasn’t anywhere near the top of the list when it came to the safest communities in the world. And he’d been scrawny, barely able to fend off his siblings when they decided they wanted to pick on him. He’d griped and groaned before the first lesson, exclaiming that he didn’t need them. He didn’t want to be seen as weak by anyone. Self-defense classes at the time seemed weak.

Now, he was grateful for the time he’d spent learning how to incapacitate an individual, even if in this situation he was, technically, the aggressor. He had the element of surprise on his side, which aided him greatly, in getting the much larger man to the ground, his snarling face pressed against the dirty floor of the club. Otabek, despite his rage, was keeping himself in check, being mostly non-violent in a way that his mother would certainly approve of.

“Apologize,” Otabek growled, his mouth directly next to the other alpha’s ear so that he could be heard over the pounding music. “Now,” He ordered, a bit louder, shaking the strange man only slightly. When an apology finally left the belligerent man’s lips, Otabek quickly turned to make sure Yuri had heard and only turned his attention back to the subdued man when the blonde nodded his head. “Touch him again and I’ll cut off your hands,” He added, for good measure, before he jerked the other into the floor a bit, releasing him immediately after.

The Kazakh male quickly retreated to Yuri’s side, once he was sure that he wasn’t going to be pursued, hands skimming over the gentle features of the Russian’s face. “You okay?” He murmured, voice far softer than it had been mere moments before. He was surprised when one of his hands was grabbed, Yuri pulling him from where they stood to the club exit, not even bothering to stop and tell their friends where they were going. He shouldn’t have been surprised, Yuri had a tendency to take off, but he was nonetheless. “Are you hurt? What’s wrong?” Otabek asked frantically as he was dragged into an empty alleyway, eyebrows pinched together in a concerned frown.

Without a word, the hand Yuri was holding was brought to the front of the omega’s shiny black leggings, the hardness beneath Otabek’s palm making his mouth drop open in realization. “Th-that… Are you… _Oh_ ,” Otabek stuttered out, his hand curling around his boyfriend’s growing erection. He shifted them so Yuri was pressed back against the wall, Otabek standing beside him with his back to the alleyway entrance, so that nobody could see Yuri.

“That was really hot,” Yuri breathed in explanation, a hand grasping at Otabek’s shoulder, words slurred. “I don’t know if it’s my stupid fucking omega heat hormones or _what_ but - fuck, that was so hot,” He continued. Otabek could feel the blush that now stained his cheeks, his head ducking down slightly in embarrassment, though that didn’t stop him from pushing down the waistband of Yuri’s bottoms, along with the seamless underwear he had on beneath.

Yuri turned his face into Otabek’s neck when the alpha’s hand wrapped around him, stroking him leisurely until he was completely hard. Otabek knew they were probably stinking up the surrounding area with their pheromones, the fact that they were both in the pre-stage of their ‘reproductive’ cycles certainly not helping in the slightest. He couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment; not when Yuri’s nose was pressed to his scent gland and the hot, soft weight of Yuri’s cock was in the palm of his hand.

It took very little time for him to work the blonde over, his hands squeezing a bit harshly towards the head, knowing that Yuri responded to that in a way that he didn’t anything else. Just as expected, teeth bit into the soft flesh of his neck, muffling a noise that would have, undoubtedly, brought attention to the two of them. Not that anyone was going to approach them. Only an idiot would.

Otabek’s free arm wrapped around Yuri as the omega jutted into his fist, his release spilling out over the thighs of Otabek’s jeans. The Kazakh man stood silently, supporting his boyfriend as he quivered and worked through the aftershocks of his orgasm, face buried in tanned skin. Once he was sure that Yuri wasn’t going to fall to the ground, he pulled away and, as lovingly as he could, tucked the blonde’s now flaccid length back into his bottoms.

“Let’s go home, babe,” Otabek murmured, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of Yuri’s neck.

 

♛♛♛

 

It was a hassle getting inside, but somehow they managed it and soon they were tumbling into Otabek’s apartment, the keys falling to the floor. Yuri went with them, now seated on the welcome mat, as Otabek turned and shut the front door behind them. After making sure it was locked once again, he kneeled down in front of Yuri who was currently giggling at nothing. The Kazakh man shook his head at his boyfriend, but smiled nonetheless as he pulled off the blonde’s shoes.

“Beka,” Yuri cooed, leaning forward until he was able to get his arms around the alpha’s neck. Otabek hummed in response, turning his head slightly to place a kiss on Yuri’s temple, before he started to pull away. The dancer whined at him, a clear sign that he didn’t want him to let go, but Otabek’s priority was getting the drunk omega into bed.

“I’ll kiss you once you’re in bed, I promise, _luchik_. So, c’mon, let’s get up and get you there,” Otabek suggested, already working to lift Yuri to his feet. Luckily, Yuri came with him easily and soon they were making their way down the hallway and into his bedroom. The air was cool within it, which he preferred, but he knew that Yuri was going to complain about his toes eventually.

After a bit of prompting, Yuri is sat on the bed and Otabek is peeling his clothing off, starting with his socks. The blonde appears to be content just sitting there for now, staring down at the alpha. Once everything is off of Yuri, excluding his underwear, Otabek shifts the other’s legs onto the bed and then tugs the blankets up over him. He joined Yuri in bed after he too was in nothing but his briefs and quickly glued himself to the other, legs tangling up and arm draped over his slim waist.

“Beka,” Yuri says again, voice a bit softer now. He situated himself until his head was beneath Otabek’s chin and let out a weak purr, which sent a shiver of pride throughout Otabek’s body. “Good night. Love you.”

Otabek’s body tensed at those two words, but not because it was too soon or he didn’t return the sentiment. These large moments had a habit of occurring when Yuri wasn’t completely sober and he was never sure if his boyfriend meant them completely, or if they just slipped due to the alcohol in his system. Regardless, Yuri was snoring softly now and Otabek felt more confident in responding, even if they wouldn’t speak words like this again tomorrow.

“I love you.”

 

♛♛♛

 

Otabek woke to the sound of groaning and an empty spot beside him. He lifted his head from his pillow and glanced around, immediately panicked, but felt a bit of relief when he noticed the bathroom light was on. He was unsure what time it was, but it didn’t matter if Yuri was in distress. He got up and walked over, the cool air prickling at his skin, before he entered the room where the noises were spawning from.

Yuri was hunched over the toilet, hair an absolute mess, and thin body trembling every now and then as he seemed to dry heave, but never actually vomit. Otabek quickly dropped to his knees and pulled the fine, golden strands away from Yuri’s face and the toilet seat, not wanting them to get dirty and make this even more difficult for the male. Green eyes soon turned to him and he offered a small, empathetic smile, before Yuri’s face was back in the toilet and he continued gagging.

“Fuck,” Yuri cursed as he finally pulled away and collapsed back against Otabek; an action that was well-received by the alpha. He wound strong, warm arms against the slighter man, pressing a soft kiss to Yuri’s shoulder. “I’m never fucking drinking again.”

They both knew that wasn’t true, but Otabek merely hummed in agreement, before helping Yuri up off the floor. He flicked of the bathroom light as they exited and practically carried the blonde back to the bed where he would be warm and comfortable.

“My fucking toes are numb,” Yuri complained and Otabek snorted at him as he tucked the blankets back around him. After making sure the other was situated, the alpha crawled back in beside him and snuggled close to his body, wanting the other to be warm again as soon as possible.

He rubbed one of his hands down Yuri’s thigh and back up again in a movement that he hoped was soothing. The blonde hadn’t yet protested or complained, so he figured it was welcome, even if it wasn’t doing much to help. Otabek had just been drifting off, about to fall asleep, when Yuri spoke.

“You can’t touch my neck.” Otabek’s head jerks up when Yuri says those words and he frowns, not exactly sure what he’s talking about. Perhaps he was still a bit intoxicated, or delirious from having woken up only a few hours after going to sleep, but when Otabek looked up at him he seemed rather serious. “I was thinking about it while I was fucking dying over that toilet. During my heat, just in case, don’t touch my neck. Cuz, you know I could think you were tryna mark me and freak out or something.”

Otabek stared at the other, sleepy brain slowly processing all that he said, before he nodded once and laid his head down on the pillow. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, Yura. Set up whatever boundaries you’d like for me,” He stated, meaning every single word he uttered. “Go to sleep now, love. We can talk more in the morning.”

It seemed that the blonde didn’t need to be told twice.

 

♛♛♛

 

Otabek had woken up quite some time ago and had somehow managed to escape Yuri’s tight grip, which then lead to him cooking up a small breakfast for them both. His head was throbbing slightly and Yuri had had far more to drink than him, so he could only imagine how the blonde was going to feel once he was awake.

He had just finished the pancakes when he heard muffled cursing from the back of his apartment and then the soft sounds of feet padding towards him. He hummed contently as arms wrapped around him and the omega’s scent filled his nose.

“Good morning,” Otabek greeted, only receiving a grunt in response.

He turned the griddle he’d been using down and whirled in his lover’s arm, immediately pushing Yuri’s hair back from his face with both of his hands. Yuri took that as a cue to look up and Otabek offered a smile, before he leaned down and placed a kiss on the shorter male’s nose. Within his scent was the bitter smell of alcohol and it seemed to make his head throb harder than it had before.

“Head hurt?” He questioned, studying Yuri’s face for any signs of pain. The blonde hesitated before he finally nodded his head.

Before Otabek could move away to grab for some painkillers, however, Yuri’s grip tightened on him. “Don’t want medicine. Want you,” He grumbled in a needy tone that was incredibly unlike him. Otabek chalked it down to the heat hormones. “Don’t move.”

Otabek hummed in response and soothed his hands over Yuri’s wild hair, over and over, and occasionally dropped a kiss to the crown of his head. It was a calm moment that helped calm Otabek somewhat. With Yuri’s heat approaching — it was supposed to start tomorrow — he couldn’t help but doubt himself and his ability to care for the other when he was in a different state of mind. Yuri had put full trust in him and he only hoped that he wouldn’t end up ruining that completely.

“Alright, c’mon. You gotta eat and take something. We’ve got to pack the stuff for the heat hotel,” Otabek finally said as he pulled away from Yuri, who growled at him. It wasn’t intimidating in the slightest and nearly prompted a laugh from the Kazakh man as he turned and piled some food onto Yuri’s plate. He passed it to his boyfriend who then shuffled to the table and settled himself onto a chair. After making his own plate, Otabek grabbed for a bottle of ibuprofen and passed it to the blonde, urging him to take it.

Once the pills were down Yuri’s throat, Otabek focused on his food. He chewed slowly, thoughtfully, and leaned back into his seat. He quickly thought of what had happened just a few hours prior and after gathering up the courage and forcing down his embarrassment. This was his _boyfriend_. He shouldn’t be shy when it comes to asking about this.

“Do you have — have any other limits?” Otabek asked, eyes trained on the eggs that he was currently pushing around his plate. “For during your heat,” He added, just so Yuri wouldn’t end up confused.

He looked up when there was a notable stretch of silence, now staring at Yuri. The male seemed to be deep in thought, fork paused in its movement, and eyes trained on the ceiling. “Nope,” He finally concluded, shrugging his shoulders. “No neck, but otherwise fuck me like you normally would. Maybe let me fuck you if I ask,” He continued, eyeballing Otabek before placing another piece of pancake into his mouth.

Otabek nearly choked on his own saliva at that but nodded his head as if he wasn’t impacted at all. “Okay.”

When they were both finished, they cleaned off their dishes and cleaned up the small mess in the kitchen and went about getting together what they needed. They were going to have to go to Yuri’s so that he could grab the essentials from his place and make sure that the instructions for the cats were set out on the counter for Viktor and Yuuri. Yuri was going to be anxious about leaving them until his heat started, but Otabek hoped it wouldn’t be too detrimental to the dancer’s mood.

Once they were finished at his place and Otabek had all he needed, they headed over to Yuri’s apartment and spent nearly an hour there. Most of it was spent with Yuri on the floor cuddling and scratching his cats’ heads and Otabek watching on fondly while writing down what Viktor and Yuuri would need to do until they returned from the heat hotel.

“Make sure to write that they need treats twice a day,” Yuri told him for the fourth time, but Otabek just hummed along, playing into the male’s worries so that he might feel a bit more secure in them.

Finally, they were leaving the apartment complex and on their way to the heat hotel where they had booked a room just a few days prior. Yuri held his hand the entire way there, looking forlornly out the window as if he was never going to return to his felines. Otabek squeezed his lithe fingers as comfort, but kept his eyes on the road. The blonde’s nerves only seem to increase when they arrive at the facility. It has a welcoming environment and doesn’t smell of other people at all, which the Kazakh man had worried about. They check in and Yuri is stuck to his side the whole time, gazing around as he gets directions to their room.

The building is incredibly daunting, with it’s stark white walls and sterile looking furniture. Otabek hopes their room shows some form of warmth than what they’re seeing right now. Yuri has his index finger hooked around his belt loop and he leads him into the elevator, before he pressed the button that was going to take them up to their room.

Luckily, the decor within the room is rather lovely. It’s large, far more large than they need, and spaced a decent amount away from any other rooms, which he’s sure is a thoughtful design on the builders part. That way none of the couples come in contact with one another and that way they avoid an skirmishes that could end poorly.

There’s an extremely large bed against one wall with one large rectangle of light above that illuminates the entire room. There’s a stand on either side of the bed and a TV on the wall directly across and a large window with blackout curtains across from the entrance. The room is full of cream and warm brown hues and Otabek sighed with relief as he set his and Yuri’s things down on the bed. The omega is off inspecting the bathroom, playing with the mirror’s antifogging mechanism, before he comes wandering back out and throws himself down on the bed.

Otabek explores the room a bit more and is relieved to find plenty of extra sheets within the closet near the door and other essentials — such as energy bars and drinks full of electrolytes — in the nightstands. Satisfied with their surroundings, Otabek soon crawls onto the bed with Yuri who’s got his face buried in a pillow. He smooths his hand over Yuri’s back and snorts as the blonde turns to face him, nose wrinkled up.

“You got that throw blanket we brought from your place? This bed doesn’t smell like anything and it’s bothering me,” Yuri questioned, pushing himself up into a sitting position. Otabek nodded and reached towards the end of the bed and dug into his duffel bag to produce the very item that Yuri had requested. The omega let out a long, eager purr at the sight of it and snatched it up as soon as it was offered, spreading it out over the bed.

Otabek moved when Yuri asked him to and rejoined the other when the blanket was spread out enough. “Better?” He asked and Yuri nodded his head in affirmation, before laying back against the numerous pillows that they had been provided with.

It’s not long before they’re laying together, Yuri with his head on Otabek’s stomach and a hand pushed up under his shirt and Otabek with his fingers combing through the fine strands of hair atop his boyfriend’s head. There’s something playing on the TV now, but Otabek isn’t paying much attention to it, too deep in his own thoughts.

“It’s so obvious when you’re nervous,” Yuri mumbled, turning his head so that he could look up at Otabek. Otabek’s onyx eyes dart down to him and he quirked an eyebrow, as if the blonde wasn’t right in his assumption. “You’re gonna do great. You’re gonna do _me_ great.” Otabek snorted at Yuri’s mediocre joke, but his small expression of amusement is quickly wiped away when Yuri’s lips are pressed to his, as if the other was reassuring him further.

“Seriously. I’ve never wanted to spend my heat with anyone before. Like, not even the stupid celebrities I crushed on before. I trust you to take care of me, so relax.”

Otabek nods his head once and then they’re settling back into each other again, lazily kissing and half-watching the program that’s running on their TV. When the time comes, they order room service for dinner and eat. Then they shower, since they likely aren’t going to be doing that again until Yuri’s heat is over. After getting ready for bed completely and making sure everything was perfect for when Yuri started his head, Otabek climbed into bed with his boyfriend, who shoved himself right against him immediately.

“Good night, Otabek,” Yuri mumbled, eyes already drooping. “I love you.”

Otabek’s heart practically leaped from his chest as Yuri — _sober_ Yuri — said those words to him and he placed a kiss atop the other’s head and he returned the sentiment, “And I love you.”

Yuri is out like a light after that and Otabek only stays up a few moments after the blonde has fallen asleep, before succumbing to the tiredness in his eyelids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO MY SWEET GUM DROPS !!!!
> 
> i'd like to apologize for being gone for so long. my life has become so fucking stressful and i've had like no motivation to write fics, but i think i'm getting it back all thanks to cmbyn and other yoi fics. as an apology, i give you this long ass fucking chapter. half of it sat in my docs for months and i just finished it over the past two days and i hope it's worthy enough of the attention this fic once had eorgeirgeg. 
> 
> if you wanna yell at me over my absence, you can find me over @ mxkell on tumblr. i love chatting with y'all, even if you're gonna scold me.
> 
> as always comments & kudos & bookmarks feed my feeble soul and make me more apt to write bc i'm a ho for validation.
> 
> up next: the hEAT


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